


Anticipating You

by catebelivet



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Porn, Dom/sub, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Hotel Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15149264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catebelivet/pseuds/catebelivet
Summary: “I don’t suppose you’d like to spend some time with me Sunday night,” Mrs. Aird dipped her chin, a lock of blonde hair falling out of place. “Would you?”“Yes,” Therese answered immediately, a rush of breath in the midst of this seduction. “Yes, I would.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I figured I'd give it a go. Thank you again to CateBlanchettandRyeWhiskey for inspiring me.

“Come on, Terry. One drink. That’s all I ask.” After adjusting the black, silk tie around his neck, Richard smoothed back his hair and gave her a lopsided grin. “Free of charge. I won’t tell.”

“I could lose my job. I’ve hardly worked here a month, Richard,” Therese unclipped her name tag and placed it inside her locker before glaring at him quietly. “And I told you not to call me that.”

Disregarding her comment, Richard shut his own locker and carried on, “Even if I wanted to tattle on you, I couldn’t. Your supervisor left ten minutes ago. I saw her leave when I went on break.”

He had a point. Therese turned away from him and pouted, fixing her bangs in the small mirror she stuck to the inside door. “I’m tired,” she mumbled petulantly. “And my feet hurt. It’s been a long week.”

“So come relax for a while. Keep me company while I finish my shift.” A pause, where Therese continued to ignore him, fiddling instead with the skirt of her uniform. Richard took a step forward, forcing himself into her line of vision. “Ten minutes, at least? Then you can run home to Dannie and your cat and whatever it is you do on Friday nights.”

Therese glanced briefly at the almost desperate look on Richard’s face and felt her stomach twist with guilt. She supposed she owed him — it _was_ Richard who got Therese the job, after all.

“Fine. Ten minutes,” she grumbled, “Then I’m out of this damned place.”

Smiling widely, Richard took it upon himself to close Therese’s locker and slung an arm around her thin shoulders, leading them out of the employee lounge. “You’re the best, Terry. Simply the best.”

Located in the heart of midtown Manhattan, the St. Regis New York was an extravagant hotel to say the least: five-star luxury suites, elegant public spaces, exceptional dining at Astor Court — as well as the famed King Cole Bar, staffed by Richard and others similar to him.

It was the very last place Therese envisioned herself working after graduating with a bachelors in photography, let alone as a _chambermaid_. She’d much rather be out in the city, building her portfolio, proving herself as an artist. Not scrubbing toilets and changing linens. But it paid the bills, her student loans. It fed her cat, Lou.

“Come with me, through the back,” Richard offered, reaching a black door which read: BAR PERSONNEL ONLY. “I can show you around.”

“Don’t you think we’re pushing it?” Therese whispered, rubbing a hand over her neck and taking a quick look around. “Couldn’t I just go through the main entrance and meet you?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Richard smirked, yanking open the door. “Relax, you’re still wearing your uniform. You’ll fit right in.”

Therese looked down to her pressed white button up blouse, burgundy skirt and matching skinny-tie; it paled in comparison to the three-piece suit Richard was required to wear. She hesitated a moment longer before stepping inside with a sigh. “If you get me fired, I’m taking you with me," she threw over her shoulder. "I hope you realize that.”

Twenty minutes later, Therese found herself nursing her second rum and coke, listening to Richard drone on about the relationship St. Regis had with Bentley Motors, and how amazing it had been for him to drive some of them around for the patrons. Feeling her eyes grow heavy with disinterest, she dropped her gaze to the small watch encircling her wrist. 10:15 PM.

“Richard, I better get going,” she insisted. “Dannie sometimes forgets to feed Lou, and —“

A sharp clattering of silverware followed by a loud crash echoed from behind the kitchen door, startling the pair of them.

“Shit, hold on, Terry. I better check this out.” As an afterthought, Richard tugged her by the elbow off of her stool and positioned her behind the bar, sloshing her drink in the process.

Therese yelped at the unexpected jostling. “Hey, what are you —?”

“Look busy. I’ll be right back.”

“Richard, I don’t — “

But he disappeared behind the door without another word, leaving her alone and very much unattended at the bar.

Flustered and more buzzed than she would like to admit, Therese took in her surroundings. A few older men were playing poker in the far corner, puffing away on cigars. A younger couple sat on the opposite side of the room, deep in discussion, drinking wine. Unsure of herself, Therese quickly drained the rest of her drink and prayed that nobody would notice her there.

Facing away in helpless disregard, Therese was busying herself with drying Manhattan glasses and plotting Richard’s death when a sweet, floral perfume began to wrap itself around her. It was welcomed in the midst of musky cologne and alcohol, so she let herself enjoy it for a moment, breathing deeply as she traced the rim of a cocktail glass with her fingertip. What could that be? Some secret flower?

The voice that came next was low, sultry, and directly behind her: “I’ll have a dry martini, with an olive.”

At the words, Therese turned and the world around her dimmed.

The woman before her was quite easily the most beautiful person she had ever seen. Beautiful was a cruel understatement; _divine_ , maybe. Her porcelain face was framed by soft, yellow hair that curled just so. Eyes blue as the ocean, lips red as sin. A cream-colored, satin dress hugged her narrow waist and put her perfect neck on display. Between her fingers, a twenty dollar bill. Therese nearly forgot how to breathe.

“Could you do that for me, sweetheart?” The woman spoke again, teasing but patient.

Snapping out of her daze, Therese cleared her throat and replied softly, “I’m sorry, but I don’t work here.”

Those blue eyes flitted down to Therese’s uniform, to the golden St. Regis emblem stamped above her breast. “Is that so?”

Therese was quick to correct herself, “What I mean to say is, I don’t work _here_ , at the bar. But my friend Richard, he does, and he’ll be back soon — “

“What is it that you do at St. Regis?” The woman interrupted, and Therese marveled at how her mouth cradled each word, the elegance found there. 

“Housekeeping, ma’am.”

“I see.” Therese clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides, almost afraid to look away — as if the mysterious woman would vanish into smoke if she did. The blonde tilted her head and Therese couldn’t help but admire the curve of her jaw. “And do you have a name?”

“Therese.”

“ _Therese._ Not Theresa?”

Trying to recover from the way her name had been held on the woman’s tongue, it took a moment for Therese to respond. “No.”

“It’s lovely.” Therese felt her face grow hot. The woman motioned gracefully towards the alcohol, manicured nails red like her lips. “I could show you how.”

Therese followed the gesture with her eyes before replying meekly, “Oh, I don’t know, I’m hardly even allowed to be behind the bar.” She fiddled with the bottom of her tie, a nervous habit.

“It wouldn’t take longer than a minute.” A pause, and when the woman spoke next, it was at a much lower volume. Private, only for them. “Do you follow instruction well, Therese?”

Therese felt her voice drop, too. “I suppose so, yes.”

“And do you enjoy serving others?” The woman leaned forward an inch and the fragrance bewitched Therese all over again, making her lashes flutter.

“I do.” _I would enjoy serving you._

“Well,” the woman seemed very pleased with this information and thus sat down on the stool Therese had been using minutes before with a sly smile. “Shall we begin, with the vermouth?”

It took much longer than a minute, as Therese wasn’t much of a drinker and couldn’t identify the proper gin, or what vermouth even _looked_ like — an aromatized wine, it turned out to be — but as she delicately finished off the drink with a single olive, Therese had to admit that she was proud of herself.

With a small smile, Therese slid the martini forward by the bottom of the glass, and the woman hummed in satisfaction.

“Now would you look at that. You did _very_ well, Therese,” she murmured, placing her hand atop Therese’s. Her body thrummed at the praise and despite the two of them being complete strangers, Therese slowly turned her palm face up, yielding to her.

This stalled the woman momentarily, but she recovered quickly and skimmed her thumb beneath Therese’s wristwatch, over her skyrocketing pulse. “Shall I take a taste?”

A sigh, “Yes.”

With her free hand, the woman lifted the cocktail glass to her lips for a sip. Therese watched with rapt attention, struggling to breathe, her skin on fire. How had she gotten herself so worked up, making a drink for this woman?

“Mmm,” the woman licked her lips and Therese felt her knees buckle. “Delicious. Would you like to try it?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, I couldn’t. It’s yours.”

“I insist. Indulge me.”

Gathering her nerves, Therese relented and readied herself to taste it, making sure not to touch any of the rouge lipstick staining the rim. The woman watched with a smirk, saying, “You see, the amount of vermouth used is the difference between dry,” Therese let the gin reach her lips. The woman’s voice fell. “And _wet_.”

Just as Therese was surely about to choke and make a fool of herself, Richard burst through the door, dressed in a different suit jacket altogether.

“Sorry, Terry, an idiot trainee spilled Merlot all over me — Oh! Mrs. Aird.” He straightened immediately, brown eyes flicking from their joined hands to the martini Therese was hastily setting down. “I hope my friend here hasn’t given you any trouble,” he attempted to joke. “Is there anything I can assist you with?”

“ _Therese_ has been an absolute star,” Mrs. Aird defended, her grip now firm on Therese’s hand. Her voice was crisp, cold. Nothing like it had been moments before, when it had been only them. “A natural.”

“Right. Of course.” Again, Richard eyed them, but before he could comment further, an elderly man flagged him down at the opposite end of the bar and he excused himself to tend to him.

“I’m sorry,” Therese found herself apologizing despite herself, “Richard is…”

“Don’t be.” Mrs. Aird’s voice was warm again and Therese reveled in her presence. There was a long moment where neither one of them spoke, and that was fine. As long as Mrs. Aird continued to skim her thumb along the curve of her palm, everything was just fine. “Can I be frank?”

“Alright.”

Blue eyes flicked up. “You excite me, Therese.”

As to not fall over, Therese gripped the edge of the bar and met her gaze. “I do?”

Mrs. Aird studied her closely, devouring her. “Do I make you nervous?” Therese could only nod, cheeks flushed pink. Why lie to her? The woman cooed, “Use your words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why?”

Parting her lips, Therese mustered up whatever bravery she had left, “Well, I suppose you excite me too.”

This seemed to satisfy Mrs. Aird greatly and she lifted the hand not wrapped around Therese’s wrist to brush featherlight against her pink cheek. “You’re blushing. Precious little thing.”

Met with more of the flowery perfume at the woman’s pulse point, Therese swooned.

Hand retreating, Mrs. Aird took a casual sip of her martini, considering her next words. “What do you do on Sundays?”

Therese forced her eyes up off of her mouth, breathless. “Nothing in particular, what do you do?”

“I’m staying here, in the Madison Suite, for a little while. Alone. Normally I’m quite busy, but on Sundays…”

“Yes?”

“On Sundays, I like to pleasure women, make them come.” It knocked the wind out of Therese, how simply the woman put it, and it made her head spin. Another swipe of her thumb along her wrist. “If they prove themselves to be good.”

Therese began to tremble. “ _Oh._ ”

“I don’t suppose you’d like to spend some time with me Sunday night,” Mrs. Aird dipped her chin, a lock of blonde hair falling out of place. “Would you?”

“Yes,” Therese answered immediately, a rush of breath in the midst of this seduction. “Yes, I would.”

Around midnight, Therese finally climbed into bed with Lou trailing behind her. Even after a long bath, her body was still humming, something new and exciting stirring in her chest. On the nightstand beside her, a red business card rested carefully against her alarm clock.

 **CAROL AIRD**  
_Co-President_  
Décor Aird Interior Design  
555-6143

On the back of it, written in ink:  
_Suite 302, xo_

Therese felt her lips curve up into a smile as she turned off her lamp, flooding her bedroom with moonlight. _Carol._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is, without a doubt, dedicated to the fantastic Cam_94.

It was half-past noon on Saturday when Therese was smacked over the head with a throw pillow. 

“Jesus, Dannie, ow!”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you’d stop spacing out like a freakin’ lunatic, I wouldn’t have to throw things at you!” Dannie groused from the living room, gesturing towards her. “You’ve been washing the same dish for ten minutes! It’s clean, man!”

Therese looked down to the sink she was hovering over, to the soapy water, her pruned fingertips. Embarrassed, she hastily placed the dish in the drying rack and scrambled to defend herself. “I don’t see anything wrong with being thorough.”

“I think you’re blurring the lines between thorough and psychotic.”

“You think too much.”

“ _I_ think too much? You’ve been in la-la land all morning!” Dannie paused, squinting at her. “Something happen last night?”

Therese fumbled at his question and dropped the mug she was scrubbing into the water, resulting in an array of tiny bubbles floating throughout the small kitchen. “No.” 

“You’re lying to me.”

“I stayed for a while with Richard, had a drink.” She placed the clean mug on the rack and grabbed another, grimacing at that memory. “Believe me, it was unexciting.”

“Is he still hitting on you? Cause I can tell him to cool it —“

“No, he’s… He’s fine.” Therese reached down into the lukewarm water to unplug the drain. “Really.”

Dannie was quiet for a moment, dark brows furrowed. When he spoke next, his voice was light with concern. “You’d tell me if something was up, yeah?”

With a sigh, Therese finished drying off her hands, picked up the throw pillow and gave Dannie a revenge whack across the forehead. “Duh.”

Once she was certain that her roommate had officially dropped the subject, Therese excused herself to her bedroom and buried her face in her pillow. After that eventful night at King Cole Bar, she had dreamt only of Carol Aird. Nothing too vivid, just flashes of red lips and feminine, tapered fingers, but it was steamy enough to have Therese shamefully change into a new pair of panties when she woke up.

_“How does nine o’clock sound?” Carol had propositioned, sliding over that haunting little business card._

_“Sure,” Therese had managed, secretly pressing her thumbnail into her own palm to see if it would hurt — to assure herself that she was awake._

_“Well,” Carol had finished her drink with a quirk of her lips and a wink. “That’s that.”_

Therese spent the remainder of her Saturday alone, away from Dannie and his questions. She supposed she could have told him about Mrs. Arid, about their tentative plans to meet Sunday night, but Therese was already beyond nervous — Dannie would only make it worse, the junior philosopher.

So she threw on some overalls, loaded her Nikon with a new reel of film, and took a cab to Hudson River Park.It was a beautiful day if you didn’t mind the heat and Therese was able to get some particularly stunning shots of the river off of Pier 45, what with the sun making everything sparkle. 

There was something poetic about the water, and Therese figured… maybe if she tried hard enough, she could capture the syntax of the waves, the haikus hiding in each shade of blue.

Soon, the area grew too crowded for Therese’s liking so she hooked her camera strap around her neck and made her way north up along the coast. Dannie always pushed herself to take candids of strangers, to expand the range of her portfolio, but she felt that it was an invasion of privacy. There was nothing private about the river. She didn’t need to apologize to the shoreline. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time Therese reached Pier 51. It offered an excellent view of the city, alongside a water-themed playground for children. She supposed she should rest a moment if she didn’t want to get blisters on her toes, so Therese found an empty bench, dropped her sunglasses over her eyes and fiddled with the focus on her camera.

“Can we get ice cream, mama?”

“Of course we can, sweet pea.”

With her eyes downcast on her equipment, Therese found herself shaking her head. Even after an entire day away from St. Regis, she was still hearing this woman’s voice around her — in the oddest of places. Maybe Dannie was right. Maybe she _was_ psychotic.

“Two scoops?”

“Hmm… I suppose, since you were such a good girl earlier when you cleaned up your toys.”

Therese froze, blinking rapidly behind her shades and gripping her camera tight. The voices were getting louder. How far away was the nearest mental institution? She had half a mind to take out her phone and do a quick Google search when—

That perfume. _Her_ perfume.

Needing to know, Therese looked up just in time to see Mrs. Aird walking past, holding hands with a little girl who was chatting idly about sprinkles and waffle cones. The woman was dressed casually but still so _chic_ in form-fitting beige capris and a thin, white blouse. Designer sunglasses were pushed back into her blonde tresses, a delicate string of pearls flirting with her neck.

Therese wanted to bolt, to hide behind a lamppost, to be any place else than in Carol’s possible line of vision — but the woman seemed to be too focused on her daughter to take notice of anything else. Regardless, she held her breath and didn’t move until they had turned the corner. In that moment, her fingers twitched against her Nikon, itching to be put to use and after a moment of desperate consideration, Therese turned around on the bench to seek them out.

There they were, just past a few trees with Carol on one knee, tying the little girl’s shoe. Therese took off her sunglasses and let out a soft hum of admiration. The woman’s profile was nothing short of dazzling, even at a distance, and though it went against her morals…

Therese lifted her camera.

As if by some sort of miracle, Richard had an extra ticket for the Yankees game Sunday afternoon, to which Dannie happily accepted. They were buddies from college, not nearly as close as Dannie and Therese, but she thanked him and kindly shoved them out of the apartment in order to be alone with her anxiety. Because how was she supposed to act, let alone _dress_ for Mrs. Aird and their rendezvous?

Her bedroom was littered with clothing by 8PM, with Therese a nervous wreck in her towel. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Lou,” she admitted to the small cat at her feet, voice strangled with hysteria. He mewed. It didn’t help. She faced her closet for the millionth time, looking at her options. A pale, pink dress. Black skinny jeans. A green skirt. Therese looked over to the clock and chewed on her lower lip. If she didn’t get a taxi soon, she was going to be late and Therese had a feeling that Carol didn’t tolerate tardiness.

With a short exhale through her nose, Therese grabbed the skirt, a black blouse and closed the door of her closet. “This will have to do.”

Half-way to St. Regis, a downpour hit Manhattan and Therese could only laugh in disbelief.

“You don’t happen to have an umbrella, do you?” she tried, zipping up her thin jacket.

The cab driver gave her a sad smile in the rearview mirror as they pulled up to the hotel. “Sorry, Miss.”

Therese tipped him big — Dannie was a taxi driver too, so she had a soft spot for all of them — and took a deep breath before sprinting towards the main entrance. By the time she made it indoors, she was exquisitely damp and Therese worriedly pulled out the business card from her pocket, hoping none of the ink had smeared. Not that she could have forgotten any of it. Suite 302. The little ‘xo’ had tattooed itself behind her eyelids by now.

She glanced down at her watch. 8:57. Her heart leapt into her throat. It was strange, being inside St. Regis off the clock, so Therese hurriedly made her way to the elevator in order to avoid anybody familiar. Unfortunately, as the doors opened on the third floor, there stood her supervisor, of all people.

“Ms. Gerhard.”

“Oh. Belivet.” Ms. Gerhard frowned, giving her a quick once-over. “You’re wet.”

Therese stepped out of the elevator before it could close again. “It’s raining.”

“Right. Did you need help with something?” she asked, taking a quick peek at the clipboard in her arms.

“No, I’m just…” Therese swallowed hard, not having expected this confrontation. “Visiting a friend.” She gestured awkwardly towards the room beside them, the Madison Suite.

Ms. Gerhard’s eyes widened momentarily, an unreadable expression. “Really?”

“Is that bad?”

“No, no. Of course not.” Ms. Gerhard shook her head and absently stuck out her hand to halt the elevator from shutting. Stepping inside, she gave her one last dazed look. “See you… tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Therese replied lamely. As the doors closed, she checked the time again. 8:59. She was getting lightheaded. Was this a smart decision, meeting a stranger in a hotel room? What if Carol was some sort of alluring serial killer? “What a way to go,” she whispered to herself, before knocking twice.

It didn’t take long for the door to open. There Carol stood, in all of her feminine glory, dressed only in what seemed to be a robe of red silk.

“Right on time. Oh, look at you,” Carol tutted, pursing her lips and lifting a hand to stroke Therese’s cheek. “Kitten caught in the rain. Come in, lets get you a towel.”

Feeling a blush travel up her throat at Carol’s state of undress, Therese tried her best to put one foot in front of the other. The sound of the door locking behind them made her shiver. “Thank you, Mrs. Aird.”

“Call me Carol, please,” she purred while taking Therese’s jacket. “It’s what I’d prefer right now.”

 _Right now?_ Therese could only nod and try not to stare at the expanse of Carol’s neck. “Of course.”

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Carol approached her with a hand towel and began to dry Therese’s hair. She was surprisingly gentle, the gesture itself very fond and affectionate, and it made Therese feel warm all over.

“All better.” Carol murmured, blue eyes flitting about the dips and valleys of Therese’s face. “Would you like some wine?”

“Please.”

“Take a seat in the living room, I’ll only be a moment.” Carol gave Therese’s arm a soft squeeze before disappearing into the small kitchen area.

Knowing that this may be the last time that she would be partly alone, Therese took the moment to take a few deep breaths as she made her way to the couch. She had only been with Carol for two minutes and her entire body was thrumming with desire. Was she really this starved of physical attention? 

Subjectively, The Madison Suite was one of her favorites. Therese had cleaned almost every room over the past month, even the Royal and Presidential Suites — but there was something about the maroon curtains and dark, wooden furniture that made the room feel not only glamorous but cozy to be in. As she sat on the plush, chocolate brown couch, Therese let her gaze wander to the nearby window where it was still steadily raining. She noticed that it was cracked open halfway, a small ashtray leaning against the sill, housing a pair of finished cigarettes. The pattering of rain against the glass calmed her nerves.

“Here we are,” Carol interrupted her thoughts, strolling gracefully into the room with two glasses of white wine. Shyly, Therese thanked her and took a long sip as Carol settled down beside her, all heavy-lidded eyes and red lipstick. Almost a full minute went by before either of them spoke.

Therese couldn’t handle the silence. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears. “So, you’re an interior decorator?”

Carol smiled against the rim of her glass and crossed her legs. “Guilty.”

“Sounds extravagant.”

“It can be.” Carol let her arm fall over the back of the couch, body language open and beautiful. “Then again, every job comes with a price.”

Therese ran her thumb along the bottom of her glass. “Oh?”

“Naturally, I’ve taken on a lot of responsibility, running a company. It takes its toll. Which is why I take time every now and then to… unwind.” Carol let her gaze drag leisurely over Therese’s petite form, seeming to enjoy the tremble it caused. “Everything okay?”

“Your perfume,” Therese heard herself reply, voice thick.

“Yes?”

 _I seem to have fallen quite madly for it._ “It’s nice.”

Carol gave her a reserved smile that charmed Therese instantly. “Thank you. It was a birthday gift, from a friend.” She took a short sip of her wine. “How old are you, Therese?”

Therese worried her lip between her teeth. There was a definite age difference between the two of them — would she be too young, scare Carol off?

“Twenty-three.”

“Mmm,” Carol only nodded, eyes twinkling like they always seem to be. “A little birdie told me you’re new to St. Regis.”

Therese tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, blown away by the fact that Carol had spoken to other people about her. “Yes, only a month.”

“And do you enjoy working here? Be honest.”

“Well… no, not really.”

“What is it that you enjoy, Therese?”

 _The way you say my name. Please never stop saying my name._ “Reading. Poetry, mostly. And photography.”

“Photography?” Carol blinked in delighted surprise. “How charming.”

Bashful, Therese stared down at her wine. “I have a degree, actually.”

“My.” Twirling a slender finger around a blonde curl, Carol tilted her head. “Were you a good student?”

Therese smiled, dimples in her cheeks. “I wasn’t much of a partier, if that’s what you mean.”

“Well, your professors must have adored you.”

Green eyes lifted. “Why?”

“Is it not a habit of yours, wearing skirts this short?”

Flushing pink, Therese gaped in mild humiliation, reaching down to pull at the fabric of her skirt that had admittedly ridden far up her thighs. “Oh, well, I —“

“Don’t touch,” Carol gently scolded, and Therese halted her movements, squeezing her thighs together. There was another long moment of heated silence. “If you’d hand me your glass, I’d like to try something. Hands to your sides, please, Therese.”

Out of her element, Therese did what she was told and gazed up at Carol, pupils blown.

“Good girl.” After setting the glasses aside, Carol let her hand drop to Therese’s bare knee. “Now, do you happen to have a poem, or maybe a sonnet, that you love? That you could…recite for me?”

Eyes glued on Carol’s hand, Therese parted her lips and stammered, “I — yes, I can think of one.”

“Well, I’d love to hear it.” Carol smirked. “How about this…” she toyed with the hem of Therese’s skirt, as if admiring the thread count. “If you can remember it all for me, you’ll be rewarded. Does that sound alright to you?”

Therese gripped the edge of the couch, throbbing and drunk on Carol. “Yes, ma’am.”

“So polite.” Carol was quiet for a few seconds before letting her voice drop, teasing her. “I’m ready when you are…”

Knowing that now was not the time to falter, Therese closed her eyes for a moment to jog her memory. There were a few poems that she had written full-blown essays on in college, collections of words that were impossible for her to forget. Reciting only _one_ of them would hardly prove to be a challenge.

Voice hushed, Therese began slowly, “Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence.” 

Carol’s hand slid up her thigh and parted her legs. _Oh._

Therese felt her panties flood.

“In-In your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because… because they are too near.”

And then Carol, in that sinful silk robe, slid off of the couch and got on her knees in front of Therese. Between her legs now, Carol pressed a lazy kiss to the inside of Therese’s thigh. It left a beautiful lipstick print in the shape of a pout. “Go on, sweetheart.”

Lightly trembling now, Therese watched as Carol slowly peppered kisses to the inside of both legs, the woman’s hands smoothing up towards the hem of her panties, lingering there. “Your slightest look…” Carol glanced up at this, her gaze dark with lust. Therese shuddered. “Your slightest look will easily unclose me, though I have closed myself as fingers…”

There was a sensitive patch of skin near her hip that made Therese squeak, so naturally, Carol bit down and sucked. “You open a-always petal by petal myself as Spring opens, touching skillfully,” Carols fingertips dipped underneath the hem of her panties. “Mysteriously, her first rose.”

In one fluid motion, her panties were pulled down, tossed aside. Therese whimpered loudly.

Carol, taking in just how _wet_ Therese was for her, gave her a dark chuckle. “It wouldn’t be wise for you to stop now, honey.” 

Chest heaving, Therese licked her lips and forced herself to recall the rest, though it was growing increasingly hard with Carol looking at her like _that._ “Or if… Or if your wish be to close me, I and my-myself will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower — “ Carol’s mouth was back on her, worshipping her thighs. “— imagines the snow ca-carefully everywhere, descending.”

The next thing she felt was a hot tongue licking a stripe up along her thigh, undoubtedly tasting some of the wetness that had trickled there. On instinct, Therese gripped at the fabric of Carol’s robe with a soft mewl. 

“Hands _down_ , Therese.” Carol’s voice was dangerously low. Therese felt her pulse spike and her clit throb as she white knuckled the edge of the couch.

“Nothing which…which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense — oh!” Carol was biting and sucking again. The rain grew louder as it beat against the open window and Therese tried not to squirm, “Your intense fragility, which… whose texture compels me with… the color of… its countries…”

Therese began to pant. She could feel Carol’s warm mouth everywhere, just narrowly avoiding where she _really_ needed it. “Rendering death and forever with… each… breathing…”

Ever so lightly, Carol blew on her clit.

“Nnngh!” Therese’s hips jerked upward but they were quickly pinned down by a pair of strong hands, followed by a sharp smack to the side of her ass as a reprimand. _Stay still._

Therese was an absolute mess, shaking and sweaty and wet. There wasn’t much left of the poem, she knew, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be coherent.

“I do not know… what it is about you that… closes and opens. Only something in m-me — understands the — the voice of your eyes is deeper… than all roses.” She took in a ragged breath, forcing the last line out: “Nobody, not even the rain, has su-uch small hands.”

With that, Carol roughly yanked Therese forward by her waist and began to lap at her pussy in earnest.

“Oh, fuck!” Therese whined, arching her back with a long, girlish moan. Carol’s tongue was swirling expertly around her clit and it wasn’t going to take very long. “Please don’t stop, _please_ …”

The begging must have done something for Carol because the next thing Therese felt was a hungry moan against her pussy and her clit being sucked on, hard.

“Oh God, Carol!” Therese could hardly breathe as she came, head thrown back, thunder rattling the windowsill as Carol dug her nails into her hipbones.

“E. E. _Cummings_ ,” Carol hummed sometime afterward, lipstick a bit smudged as she made her way to the window. “How appropriate.”

Still catching her breath, Therese sat up properly and ran a shaky hand through her hair, watching Carol take out a pack of Virginia Slims. She seemed so… unaffected, flicking her lighter.

Placing her hands on her knees, Therese hung her head, feeling strangely vulnerable and out of place. “Carol?”

Carol looked over and batted her lashes. “Yes? Eyes up, Therese.”

Therese lifted her gaze, face and neck still flushed. “Did I please you?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Carol’s expression softened and she stepped forward to stroke her hair. “More than you know. You were such a good girl.” Therese felt her shoulders relax, her chest swelling with pride at the words. Carol took a drag from her cigarette and threaded her fingers through Therese’s hair before continuing, “But look at the mess you’ve made.” 

Looking down, Therese nearly fainted from embarrassment. She had left quite a wet patch on the couch cushion from her earlier arousal. “Oh, Carol, I’m so sorry—“

“Don’t apologize. St. Regis has excellent housekeeping.” Carol replied smoothly, caressing Therese’s cheek before walking back to the window. “I’ll just have to have them… come tomorrow.” With a noncommittal shrug, Carol tapped her cigarette against the ashtray before bringing it back to her lips. “Don’t you think?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the beautiful response to chapter one, it blew me away. I truly hope you enjoyed this update, I worked extra hard on it for all of you.


	3. Chapter 3

“Aird Interior, this is Carol.”

“Stop fucking my employees.”

Taking off her glasses, Carol rubbed a hand over her face and leaned back in her chair. “Can we not do this right now, Abby? I have a conference call in five minutes —“

“Is this really how you decide to repay me, after I open up the suite for you?” Abby argued into the receiver, talking over her. “We had it booked for two months, Carol. That was a huge favor.” 

“I know, I know.” Carol pinched the bridge of her nose, suddenly wishing she was in her office and not at the desk in her loaned hotel room. “And I’ve thanked you. _Several_ times.”

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to? Turning the Madison into some sort of…sapphic sex dungeon?”

Carol bristled. “What I do in my spare time isn’t any of your business.”

“It became my business when you started fooling around with one of my maids.”

“Shall I phone my secretary then, fire her for sleeping with _my_ childhood friend?” Carol shot back, voice tight with irritation. “Don’t be a hypocrite, Abigail. You don’t see me throwing a tantrum because you’re seeing Genevieve, do you?”

Abby faltered, “That’s not— that isn’t — You’re being reckless, Carol." She sounded exasperated. "Is this the sort of example you want to set for Rindy?”

That struck a nerve. “I don’t have time for this. _Really._ ” Carol spat at her. “I need to go. We’ll talk later.”

She heard Abby begin to protest, but Carol ended the call with a quick tap of her thumb against her smart phone.

“Reckless,” Carol scoffed to herself, standing and undoing the top few buttons of her crisp, navy blouse. She strode over to the vanity in the powder room and angrily pinned up her hair away from her neck. “I can do whatever I damn well please.”

From around the corner, her phone vibrated again and Carol stormed over with the intent to bitch Abby out — only to see _Haymes, Fred_ appear on the caller ID. She took a deep breath to settle herself before hitting accept.

“Fred, hello. Yes, yes, I’m alright," she sighed. "Are the Brooklyn clients adequately connected? This has potential, you know, we cannot afford the call being dropped midway through the design pitch. Do you remember what happened with New Jersey?” Carol pushed a few wisps of hair off of her forehead with a frown. “What a disaster.” 

Sitting back down on the mahogany office chair, Carol wedged her cell between her cheek and shoulder so she could roll up her sleeves to her elbows, listening intently to what her partner had to say before the conference began.

Just as she was about to speak, two familiar knocks fell faint against the door to her suite, which had been left open a crack. “Housekeeping.”

Carol glanced over her shoulder and locked eyes with the maid from last night, Therese the photographer. _Abby’s_ Therese, she thought bitterly. The darling little slip of a thing in that ridiculous skirt and tie. Despite the poor timing, Carol clicked her pen and beckoned her forward with a tilt of her head.

Appearing to notice that Carol was mid-conversation, Therese wordlessly ducked inside with her basket of supplies and shut the door behind her with a soft _click._ She then took a tentative step forward, posture uncertain.

From her leather briefcase beside the desk, Carol retrieved a small stack of yellow post-it notes. “Genevieve forwarded me the contract this morning,” she chatted absently while pressing pen to paper. “It would be excellent for our marketing department if we could sell them on the Italian marble, don’t you think? No, for the master bath; they wanted granite for the kitchen.”

Peeling off the top note, Carol offered her simple message to Therese:

_Be a sweetie and tidy up for me. I’ll be done in 20 minutes._

Therese, who had accepted the note eagerly, took her bottom lip between her teeth and gave her a single, obedient nod before making her way to the kitchen. She really was a dear, wasn’t she?

“Okay, Fred,” Carol rolled back her shoulders and tapped a few keys on her laptop, crossing one long leg over the other. “We shouldn’t leave them waiting any longer. Connect the call, I’m ready.”

Therese remained in the background for the majority of the call, refilling tea packets, changing the hand towels, polishing the countertops. Restocking the single-serving St. Regis bathroom accessories. But towards the end of Carol’s sales pitch — which was going swimmingly, to her contentment — Therese reappeared in the corner of her eye.

She was approaching her space carefully with — _god_ , was that a feather duster? Tickled by the cliché, Carol turned to watch her.

To Carol’s right was a wooden entertainment cabinet which held a flat screen television and a posh-looking floral arrangement. Therese was busying herself with cleaning it, movements precise but delicate, trying to make the least amount of noise. Licking her lips, Carol allowed Fred to take over the conversation and took a moment to admire Therese’s figure. Blue eyes trailed over the slight swell of her breasts, her narrow waist, down to the curve of her ass. She was so slim, like Carol could pick her up and just — _destroy_ her, if she wanted to.

“I’m pleased to hear you’ve decided on the spiral staircase, Harriet,” Carol added to the discussion, her voice smooth like velvet. She narrowed her eyes at Therese, watching her closely. Was that color, in her cheeks? “You certainly have an eye for glamor.”

Carol rolled one of her ankles, her black high heel glinting in the light from the chandelier above them. From the moment she saw her, there was something about Therese that made her feel particularly naughty. So she tapped her pen lightly against the desk to catch her attention.

The little maid looked over, all pursed lips and long lashes, sinfully virtuous in that uniform. After some deliberation, Carol uncrossed her legs, smoothed out the fabric of her tailored pants, and firmly patted her lap. Not an invitation, a command. _Sit._  

Therese didn’t hesitate and it fed Carol’s hungry ego. With a blush, the brunette set down her duster, tucked her hair behind her ears and straddled her shyly. Carol cradled Therese’s jaw with her free hand, pleased with her immediate compliance, and pressed a barely-there kiss to the apple of her cheek.

She wasn’t expecting the delighted hum that came next. Chuckling, Carol leaned back an inch and playfully placed a finger against Therese’s lips to shush her. This earned her a demure smile that made Carol feel hot all over, so she wrapped her fist around that burgundy tie and pulled her closer.

“We _could_ install a skylight, but it would delay the move-in date by another two weeks,” Carol explained, tossing the tie over Therese’s shoulder to expose the front of her uniform. Leisurely, she began to undo each button with nimble fingertips. “Although, stargazing from the comfort of your own living room…” As if unwrapping a gift, Carol opened Therese’s shirt little by little, revealing a bra of white lace. Her jaw unhinged. “There isn’t _anything_ like it.”

Going against her better judgement, Carol tuned out the conversation, putting her trust in Fred as she cupped one of Therese’s breasts. The woman in her lap gasped softly, shuddering and placing her hands on Carol’s shoulders. She couldn’t deny it — Therese had a gorgeous body. She _never_ looked like that. Carol ran her thumb experimentally over a hardened nipple, drawing a lewd whimper out of Therese’s throat.

“The twentieth sounds excellent, John,” Carol eventually chimed in, having been enjoying the way Therese’s hips bucked forward every time she tweaked her nipple especially hard. “I’ll have my office contact you within the week.” She could _feel_ how wet Therese was, skirt bunched around her hips.

Carol desperately wanted the phone call to end — the deal had been made, the date had been set — but Fred had taken it upon himself to chat up the husband about yachts. Rolling her eyes, Carol put the call on speaker and placed it on the desk. Talk about useless conversation.

Kissing a heated path up along Therese’s neck, Carol palmed her breast with one hand and lifted up the skirt with the other. It was liberating, not having to hold her damned phone anymore. She brushed her fingertips over Therese’s panties and — yes, just as she had expected: absolutely soaked. Therese was obviously struggling to contain herself, trembling in her lap, and Carol nipped at the shell of her ear.

“Quiet down, darling,” she whispered, “You wouldn’t want me to lose this client, would you?”

Hips jerking again, Therese shakily nodded her understanding, fingers bunching up the material of Carol’s blouse. Over Therese’s shoulder, Carol glanced at her cell phone, to Fred chatting away about memberships and affordable docking. _To hell with it._

Without warning, she dipped her hand beneath Therese’s panties and sunk two fingers deep into her pussy.

Therese almost cried out — _almost,_ but muffled the noise by burying her burning face in Carol’s neck. Placing her free hand on the back of Therese’s head, Carol started to fuck her slowly. She felt heavenly, so tight and wet around her fingers. Her mind began to wander, to how debauched Therese would look, _riding_ her. 

Just as she was curling her fingertips, Fred’s voice cut through her daydream. “Isn’t that right, Carol?”

Clearing her throat, Carol managed to speak up, feigning coherence. “Right, right. Absolutely.” She quickened her pace, focused solely on Therese’s pleasure now. With each thrust came a little hitch of breath against her neck and it drove Carol wild.

“Well, I suppose that about covers it,” Harriet, the wife, spoke now. “See you on the twentieth. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Fred, Carol.”

“Likewise.” Hastily, Carol ended the call, pushed her laptop aside and hoisted Therese up onto the desk to fuck her properly, rough and unforgiving.

Therese let out a bit of a wail, wrapping her arms around Carol’s neck as she whined, “Fu- _uck_!”

“Good lord, _look_ at you.”

“Oh, Carol, I’m gonna come!” Therese had her fingers tangled in Carol’s hair now, tugging at it.

“Go on, sweetheart,” Carol groaned, dragging her teeth over Therese’s jaw. “Come for me.”

With a strangled cry, Therese stiffened in Carol’s arms and clenched hard around her fingers. Tie loosened, panties ruined. Coming undone for her, on the clock, like a good girl. Something unfamiliar swelled in Carol’s chest and she felt herself craving a cigarette.

But she wasn’t cruel; she first held Therese through her orgasm, making sure she didn’t slip off of the desk and harm herself before taking a step back, turning towards the ashtray on the window sill.

“Wait.” A warm hand curled around her wrist, stopping Carol before she could move away.

Body buzzing with arousal, Carol swallowed hard and stared at her expectantly. Was Therese expecting a second climax? Bold of her to ask, but she supposed she could —

“Don’t you want me to…” Therese sat up, flushed chest still heaving as she regarded Carol with nervous eyes. “May I touch you, too?”

Carol stiffened, taken aback by the proposal. She had grown used to the women in her life being at peace with their own undoing — not to mention Harge and his substandard lovemaking. Now she was met with Therese, offering to pleasure her in return. In the midst of her shock, Carol almost lost her reserve.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Therese backpedalled in shame, misunderstanding the prolonged silence.

“No, darling,” Carol finally spoke up, eliminating the space between them. “You’re — You’re _such_ a good girl, wanting to…” She sucked in a sharp breath, becoming increasingly aware of just how badly she was throbbing as she fumbled with the button of her dress pants.

“Let me.”

Lips parting, Carol watched Therese scoot forward on the desk and unclasp the front of her trousers, pulling down the zipper with petite fingers. She couldn’t look away — it had been so _long_. Needing to touch her in some way, Carol threaded her fingers through Therese’s hair and let out a throaty whimper.

“You _do_ know the door is unlocked.” Even in her state of sexual distress, Carol couldn’t help but toy with her. She spread her legs, enjoying the height difference given to them by her designer heels. “Anybody could come in, see you here.” Therese swiped her fingertips over her ruined panties, and Carol grunted. “Half-naked on my desk.”

“W-Well,” Therese was burning up beneath her, so precious, the model submissive. “I’ll be careful.” She placed her fingertips at the hem of Carol’s panties, whispering, “Can I?”

Overwhelmed, Carol closed her eyes and nodded her consent, her voice low with desire. “ _Yes._ ”

It became clear that Therese was inexperienced, fingers slipping around clumsily before finding her clit, but Carol was incredibly wet and the physical contact alone was indescribable. “God, faster, Therese.”

Spurred on by Carol’s arousal, Therese dared to dip her fingers inside, eliciting a wanton moan out of the blonde. She held onto Carol’s waist, thrusting steadily. “Is this okay?”

“Shit,” Carol ducked her head to bite the crook of Therese’s neck, dropping one of her hands to grip the table. Therese yelped, fingers stuttering. “Yes, sweetheart,” she breathed hotly, “It — it won’t take long.”

And it didn’t. Therese was fucking her tenderly, her pace excruciating but perfect, and after a few choice thrusts Carol was coming hard against her hand with a choked cry, body quivering with unspeakable release.

This little maid was going to be the death of her.

Making an effort to catch her breath, Carol gently pressed her forehead against Therese’s. She let their noses brush intimately as she came down from her high, but when the brunette began to tip up her chin, Carol realized her mistake. At the last moment, she turned her head, letting the kiss fall upon her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Therese,” Carol murmured, carefully loosening her grip from Therese’s hair. “That’s a hard limit for me.”

“Oh,” Therese began to retreat, hurt and confusion scrunching up her face.

“Darling, it’s nothing personal,” Carol amended straightaway, placing a finger underneath Therese’s chin. “Look at me.”

Irresolute and self-conscious, Therese eventually did as she was told. Carol searched her eyes, dragging her thumb lazily over her bottom lip. That _feeling_ came back, twisting in her chest. She didn’t know whether she hated it or wanted to lock it up inside of her forever.

“We should talk,” Carol found herself suggesting, calmer now that the after-shocks of her orgasm had faded away.

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“Where?”

“Perhaps over the phone,” Carol gave her a teasing smile, hoping to lighten the mood. “As to avoid any distraction.”

Therese ducked her head with a knowing smile of her own, causing some of her hair to fall out from behind her ears. “Alright.”

“Now, go freshen up, kitten. I’m sure soon you’ll be missed.”

Therese was still reeling with disbelief by the time she entered her apartment that evening. For starters, she was _sore_ , and it made the rest of her shift especially difficult with the constant reminder of how thoroughly Carol had, well —

Locking the front door behind her, she felt her cheeks grow rosy at the memory all over again. And to top it all off, Mrs. Aird was sporting sophisticated, thick-rimmed glasses when she asked for Therese’s number— as if the woman could be any more alluring than she already was. 

“Something’s different about you,” came Dannie’s voice from seemingly out of nowhere.

Pressing a hand to her heart in alarm, Therese gasped and spun around. “Damn it, Dannie! Stop doing that!”

With his arms crossed over his chest, Dannie leaned against the door frame, brows set in concentration. “You do something to your hair?”

Therese stepped away from him to hang her keys on the makeshift hook — a literal nail Dannie had hammered into the drywall — and tried to calm her racing heartbeat. “No?”

Dannie followed her, still studying her like a riddle he was trying to solve, or a science experiment. “You wearing makeup now? Is that blush?” Reaching out, he pinched her cheek.

Smacking his hand away, Therese scooted around him, wanting to be out from under his inspection. She kicked off her shoes and set down her cell phone, trying to ignore the dull ache between her thighs. “For your information, I’m exactly the same.” 

“Why are you limping?”

“I — what? No, I’m not.”

“Holy shit.”

“Dannie, shut up.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Dannie.”

“What a miracle! Somebody fucked my sister!”

Therese, who had been pouring herself a glass of wine, was suddenly airborne as Dannie lifted her in congratulations. She laughed despite herself. “Stop it!”

“Who would have thought? My little Ther-bear, deflowered.”

“Could you please put me down? You’re so _annoying._ ”

Dannie set her back down only to grab himself a beer from the fridge. “You’re right. This is worth celebrating.”

Downing half of her glass, Therese took the knot out of her tie. “I’m moving out.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Nobody you’d know.”

“Enlighten me, then.” When Therese didn’t respond, Dannie groaned and flopped onto the couch. “Stop being lame.”

“You don’t need to know!” Therese argued, raising her voice. “It’s not like you’d ever meet her!”

“Wait, _her?”_ He sat up, beer in hand, brown eyes wide. “You’re into chicks now? Since when?”

“I don’t know, Dannie! God!”

On the table between them chimed Therese’s cell, effectively interrupting their bickering.

**_Incoming call:_ ** _Carol_

Dannie looked down at the display with interest, then back up to Therese with a cheeky smile.

“Don’t you dare.”

In a flash, they both dove towards the phone and wrestled for it on the couch like children. Lou ran circles around them, meowing in excitement.

“Just let me say _hello._ ”

“No!” Therese grappled for the device, but Dannie had a firm grip.

“It’ll only take a second, I promise — ow!”

Terrified that the call would go to voicemail, Therese had kicked Dannie in the shin and used the moment of weakness to yank her cell out of his hands. As she stumbled her way into her bedroom, she heard him call out, “We aren’t finished here, young lady!”

Therese slammed the door behind her and picked up on the last ring, out of breath. “H-Hello?”

She could hear Carol’s smirk. “Is this a bad time…?”

“No.” Collapsing onto her bed, Therese stared up at the ceiling and shook her head with a smile. “Not at all." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the bottom of my heart, thank you all for the kudos and comments. I hope you enjoyed this update. x


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you alone, Therese Belivet?” 

After placing a cigarette between her lips, Carol struck her lighter once, twice, before taking a deeply satisfying drag. She let the slow burn seep into the furthest parts of her body before exhaling, waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” came Therese’s darling little voice, “I just got home, actually.”  

“No roommate?”

Turning around, Carol leaned back against the railing of the balcony. Due to the design of her dress— a black, formal Faviana— the smooth expanse of her back was exposed and the cool metal felt refreshing against her feverish skin.

“Well, there’s Dannie. He lives with me. But he’s out in the living room right now, watching television.”

After taking another leisurely pull off of her cigarette, Carol flicked some of the ash away with a practiced tap of her fingertip. “And where are you, kitten?”

Therese’s voice wavered, “My bedroom.” A pause. “Where are you?”

“Out in the city, for now.” Carol let her eyes roam over the lounge in front of her — 21 Club, an upscale former speakeasy south of Manhattan. Fred’s brand of logic was to splurge on Charbay whiskey and Oysters Rockefeller after a major win. She begged to differ. “I’ll be heading home soon, I suppose.”

“Oh." 

Carol let the silence hang between them, entertaining herself with the tension. She always found innate pleasure in toying with women. “I can hear you thinking.”

When Therese spoke next it was hushed and — so _uncertain._ “I want to know, I think. I mean, I want to ask you things. But I’m not sure that you want that.”

“Ask me. Things.” Carol coaxed gently. She ran a hand over her neck, skirting over her pulse and her pearls. “Please.”

Therese was quiet for a while, presumably battling with herself. Carol heard movement in the background and she let her imagination prowl, picturing the young woman getting comfortable in bed.

“How do you…” An endearing huff of breath. “Why do I always…”

“Always?”

“Unravel. I can’t explain it.”

Carol lifted her cigarette to her mouth once more, paper stained red from her lipstick. “Try.”

“You make me feel different. Out of control.”

Smoke escaped her lips like a ghost, unhurried as Carol mulled over her response. “Does this bother you?”

“I’m not sure.” Therese hesitated. “How long are you staying at St. Regis?”

Tilting her head, Carol studied the vast skyline, blonde hair unraveling as a breeze swept over the balcony. A fair-skinned waitress took this moment to step outside, offering her a flute of champagne. Carol turned it down with a slight shake of her head and a wink.

“A while.” Carol preferred to remain ambiguous.

“How long is a while?”

“Keen on getting rid of me, Therese?” Carol chuckled. “You wound me.”

“No! It’s not that.” Therese’s voice lifted in reassurance. “I just wanted to see you again.”

Putting out her cigarette against the brick wall beside her, Carol made her way back inside and towards the stairs which led to the exit. Fred was three sheets to the wind and chatting up an intern — she wouldn’t be missed.

“Carol?”

“Forgive me, darling. I was saying my goodbyes,” Carol purred, stepping out onto the sidewalk. Maybe it was the whiskey in her veins, or perhaps boredom, but she couldn’t stop herself. Everything with Therese was vaguely spontaneous. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

Therese spoke so softly that Carol had to turn up the volume on her cell. “My uniform. I haven’t gotten the chance to change.”

“Is that so?” Carol’s heels clicked against the pavement and she kept her voice low; the tourists beside her didn’t need to eavesdrop. “And the same panties as before?”

“…Yes.” 

“Dirty girl.” Turning the corner, Carol sought out St. Regis in the distance, the material of her dress swishing around her hips with each casual step forward. “Take them off.”

“Oh, I—” Therese began, adorably flustered, but it wasn’t the response she was looking for.

“Now, Therese. I won’t ask you again.” There was shuffling on the other end and Carol could have sworn she heard the click of a lock.

“Alright, I’m…” Therese sounded so bashful. “I’m in bed.”

Licking her lips, Carol thought back to their heated afternoon. Her suite still smelled like sex. “You looked delectable today, in my lap.” She ran a fingertip idly over her collarbone, reminiscing. “I have to admit, I’m disappointed in myself for not taking another taste.”

Therese let out a jagged breath into the receiver. “Will I ever get to taste you?”

Abruptly, Carol’s neck flushed and she had to inhale slowly to calm herself. “Is that what you want?” Her blood ran hot. “To kneel before me as I did for you?”

This time, Therese replied straightaway, ardently. “ _Yes._ ”

“You like being called a good girl, don’t you?” Carol’s voice had developed a bit of a rasp with her growing appetite. Therese whimpered on the other end and her pulse spiked. “Is it the praise, that makes you unravel? Or is it the way I make you come?”

“All of it,” Therese choked out. “Everything you do.”

Crossing the threshold of St. Regis New York, Carol stalked forward towards the elevator with purpose and was relieved to find it empty. As the doors shut in front of her, she closed her eyes. 

“Listen to you. It’s been hardly six hours, kitten,” Carol taunted. “Was our little jaunt against my desk not enough?” Therese began to pant intimately against her ear. “No? Spread your legs.” 

“Oh, god…”

Carol tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator to reach her floor. She had talked several women through an orgasm, habitually apathetic, but something about the way Therese complied made her lightheaded. Soon enough, Carol was pushing her key-card into the slot beside her suite and slipping inside.

“Do you have _any_ idea how distracting you were for me today?” Carol growled, stepping out of her heels. “Parading around my suite in that sorry excuse of a skirt?”

This drew a throaty whine out of Therese. “Please, can I…"  
  
“Don’t you dare. Not until I say.” Carol made her way to the vanity to set down her purse and take off her diamond earrings. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

Carol couldn’t hold back, body wound tight with desire. “Yes, _what?_ ”

Therese swiftly rectified her mistake, whispering shakily, “Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

At these words, the burning sensation from that afternoon returned full-force, blossoming wickedly in Carol’s chest — and this time she understood _exactly_ what it was: the thriving promise of absolute possession.

Her fingers trembled with this new sense of authority as she untied the knot of her dress, letting it pool at her feet in a heap of black chiffon. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You,” Therese admitted thickly, inhibited and lovely. “I wish you were here.”

After unclipping her hair, Carol carelessly tossed the bobby-pins onto the counter and made her way to her own bed, clad in only her dark brazier and panties, pearls resting between her breasts. Therese didn’t need to know how hard she was shaking, as long as she kept her voice level, neutral. “Why is that?”

Therese’s breathing was irregular now. “So you could touch me again.”

Climbing on top of the plush, white duvet, Carol stretched out cat-like and settled against her pillows. “I take it you like my hands on your body.”

“C-Carol…”

Chest heaving slightly, Carol felt her toes curl. “It takes a major amount of self-control, you know, to not absolutely wreck you.” This earned her a distressed whine. Cupping her own breast, Carol let her voice drop after a long, sinful beat. “Touch.”

The moan against her ear was so _decadent_ that Carol’s hips jerked up on their own accord.

“Tell me.” Dipping her hand beneath her own panties, she bit back a groan, “Tell me how wet you are.”

“God!” It almost sounded as if Therese was crying, or perhaps trying not to. “So wet.”

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Carol closed her eyes, swallowing hard as her body erupted in heat. “Fucking yourself for…” Circling her clit felt a little too good, and she faltered. “…for me?”

Having caught on that Carol was also touching herself, Therese couldn’t formulate a clear response — she was reduced to muffled whimpers and broken gasps.

“Which did you like more?” Carol pondered darkly, her pulse loud in her ears. “My mouth between your legs? Or riding my lap like a slut?” Therese cried out, high-pitched and impure. It made Carol shudder, pleased to hear that she responded well to humiliation.

“Jesus,” Therese mewled faintly, trying to keep her voice down. “I think I’m… I’m gonna…”

“If you come without my permission I _will_ punish you, Therese.”

“I need _,_ I _need_ to — ” It was feeble, bordering on depraved.

Carol’s lashes fluttered. “I know you do, kitten. Go faster.” There was a bit of a sob on the other line and she would have chuckled at her own cruelty if she wasn’t so close to climaxing herself. “What I wouldn’t give to see you now.” A low moan. “Writhing for me without question.”

“Please, please, please…”

Listening to Therese so openly desperate for release was what ultimately made Carol quicken her thrusts and give in earlier than she would have preferred.

“ _Now_ , Therese,” she threw her head back, imagination running rampant with the idea of her. “Right now.”

Her little maid always sounded so sweet when she came — broken and erratic, like the world around her was crumbling and being built up all over again. Carol turned to press her face into one of her pillows, muffling her own feminine cry as Therese unabashedly sent her over the edge.

Neither woman spoke for a while, instead catching their breath and listening to the other come down. It could have been romantic, but it wasn’t. Not with the way Carol was plotting ascendancy.

In the end, it was Therese who broke the silence, reverent and shy. “Thank you.”

“Oh, darling,” Carol raked wet fingers through her hair, shaking her head in disbelief. “What am I to do with you?”

Therese awoke the next morning wrapped up in her sheets, her alarm clock beeping persistently. After reaching over to stop the noise, Therese yawned and noticed that her cell phone was resting beside her pillow. Strange. She frowned, confused. Her mouth tasted like wine. Why was she still wearing her work clothes?

_Carol._

All at once, memories from the night before came flooding back and Therese felt herself melt into the mattress, dizzy all over again. So it hadn’t been a dream. Before the call ended, they had agreed to meet again at the end of the week, uninterrupted and private. Their secret affaire de coeur.

 _Sunday nights with Carol_ , Therese mused. It was something she could see herself getting used to.

The rest of the week went by agonizingly slow and Carol was nowhere to be seen.

Considering their close quarters, Therese assumed that she would see her at least once in passing, maybe in the hallway, or at the bar. She had even been assigned, on Wednesday, to change the linens in the Madison suite but was met with nothing but a vacant hotel room when she opened the door. 

Therese longed to go through Carol’s closet, explore her vanity, try to learn more about her in _some_ way, but she kept her head down and her hands to herself. The very last thing she wanted was for Carol to think she was snooping and, in the process, ruin everything between them.

Thursday night, Therese sat across from Dannie on the living room floor of her junky studio apartment, eating Chinese takeout and watching Wheel of Fortune. They were taking a much-needed break from peeling off the yellowing kitchen wallpaper — it had been their plan for a while to paint it green.

At the commercial, she spoke up. “You’re acting like a child, you know that?”

Dannie, who had been giving her the silent treatment over the past two days, pouted and shoveled more lo mein into his mouth. “No, I’m not.”

“My sex life is private, Dannie.” Therese poked at her fried rice with her chopsticks. “Do you know how weird it is for me to even have to say that?”

“You promised me.”

Looking up, Therese made a face, bewildered. “What?”

“You _promised_ me that we wouldn’t keep secrets,” Dannie leaned back to regard her seriously, no longer hunched over his food. “At the Home. Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Therese consoled him. They didn’t often speak about the past.

Setting down his chopsticks, Dannie pushed away some of his brown curls. He needed a haircut.

“I know it sounds stupid, but… what if you don’t come home, one night? I’ll have no idea who to call, or where to find you.” He frowned, gesturing towards himself. “What kind of big brother would I be, huh? If I can’t protect you?”

“Dannie — " 

“No, I mean it. We’re adults, I get it, but — you’re all I _got_.” He started to look anywhere but her, face scrunching up. Therese had seen it before. He was trying not to cry. “Maybe I’m being overly sensitive, or whatever. But I don’t care. If somethin’ happens to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Therese murmured, scooting around the styrofoam boxes to sit close to him. When he continued to ignore her, she rested a hand on his arm. “ _Hey._ I’m not going anywhere. Alright?”

Insecure, Dannie gave her a brief nod, rubbing at his eyes. “Yeah.”

It took only a few seconds of searching his poor face for Therese to make up her mind. “You’re right. You should know. Just…” She shoved him playfully. “Give me a smile, okay? I’m sorry. And pass me a beer.”

An hour later, they were back to normal — Dannie calling her a doofus like he always did, the both of them yelling at Alex Trebeck as they stole each other’s food. He chucked a fortune cookie at her with a lopsided grin. “Don’t forget your lucky numbers.”

Flinching as the wrapped cookie bounced off of her head, Therese snorted and tore open the plastic. It felt good to have Dannie back. Taking a sip of her beer, she glanced at her fortune:

_Praise, like gold and diamonds, owes its value to its scarcity._

Thinking immediately of Carol, Therese secretly folded the tiny slip of paper in half and shoved it in the pocket of her jeans before Dannie could see.

Therese never minded the short walk to work. Her favorite coffee shop was on the way there, always playing 50’s music from a vintage record player, and Therese would pass the same dog-walker on her last block north. It was pleasant, for the most part, when the weather was nice. Familiar.

But as she neared the entrance to St. Regis on Friday morning, a heavy arm wrapped around her waist for the first time, scaring the hell out of her.

Nearly falling over, Therese looked up in trepidation and found Richard leering at her. “Woah, there. Morning, Terry.” 

Instantly plagued by the smell of his cheap aftershave, Therese grimaced. Since when did he work so early? The bar didn’t open for another three hours. She tried to slip away from him by tossing her empty cup into a nearby bin, but he was determined to keep her close.

“ _Hi_ , Richard.”

As they crossed the threshold of the hotel, Richard smoothed a hand over his clean-shaven jaw, the other hand still wrapped tight around her hip. “I’m glad I caught you this morning.”

Therese wrinkled her nose, clearly uncomfortable as they neared the employee lounge. “Why?”

Attempting to be a gentleman, Richard opened the door for her with an easy smile. “Is it so bad to want to see a pretty girl before the day begins?”

“Is that all that I am to you?” Therese mumbled, finally shaking off his arm and heading towards her locker. “A pretty girl?”

“Along with smart and talented.” Richard crossed his arms and leant sideways against the neighboring locker to watch her. “Don’t be like that.”

Putting away her belongings, Therese pinned her name tag to her shirt and regarded him cautiously. “Dannie told me you were fine with being just friends.”

Richard dipped his chin to meet her gaze. “Friends can compliment each other, right?” After receiving no response, he reached out to tuck away some of her hair. “C’mon, Terry.”

Cheeks flaring in embarrassment, Therese pushed away his hand and moved around him, not bothering to close her locker. Richard huffed in exasperation and followed close behind, relentless in his approach. “Give me a chance, would you?”

“I don’t like you like that,” Therese reminded him bitterly as they stepped back out into the lobby. “Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

For the third time that morning Richard placed his hands on her, this time on her shoulder to turn Therese around. “Listen, I’m sorry — "

A woman’s voice then cut through the air, authoritative and demanding their attention. “Is there a problem here?”

Dressed in a charcoal business suit with her briefcase in hand stood Carol Aird, a few feet away and seemingly on her way out. The look on her face — halting, cold — was genuinely frightening and shut the both of them up.

On pure instinct, Therese felt herself move towards Carol but she caught herself at the last moment, stumbling away from the both of them instead.

“Not at all, Mrs. Aird,” Richard answered on their behalf, wide-eyed and sincere. “We were just talking. Right, Terry?”

Therese rubbed a hand nervously over her arm and looked away, ashamed of the situation.

“Abigail Gerhard is your employer, am I correct?” Carol asked sharply, fingers tightening around the handle of her briefcase. Her eyes hadn’t left him once.

Richard grew pale at her question. “Ms. Gerhard owns most of St. Regis. She’s in charge of all of us.”

Carol worked her jaw and made a show of looking him up and down, blatantly judging him. It made him flinch. “I see.”

Hot around the collar, Richard cleared his throat and stepped aside. “If you’d excuse us, Therese and I should get to work. Have a good day, Mrs. Aird.”

Therese felt her hands curl into fists, her ears pink with frustration as she watched him leave. Richard Semco wasn’t her _keeper._ But this wasn’t the time nor the place to throw a fit, especially not in front of Carol.

Parting her lips to apologize, Therese turned towards her, but Carol had other plans — plans that included taking her suddenly by the wrist and dragging her back inside of the employee lounge. Upon realizing that nobody else was inside, Carol let her briefcase fall to the ground and pressed Therese firmly against the lockers, hands curled around her waist.

Therese blushed scarlet and instantly reached for the lapels of Carol’s blazer, surrounded by her perfume. Four days away felt like four goddamn weeks. “Carol…”

Carol seemed to be keeping her temper in check, her expression stormy as her eyes began a hungry descent of her body. “He shouldn’t touch what isn’t his.”

“I don’t want to wait until Sunday,” Therese admitted candidly in a rush of breath. “I _can’t_.”

“Clear your schedule for tonight,” Carol instructed, her dangerous tone of voice leaving no room for discussion. Blue eyes flicked up to meet green. “And don’t bother wearing panties. They’ll just get in the way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments. They warm my heart. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to Cameron & Kelsey for cheering me on.

Five knocks fell upon the door to Carol’s office at half past noon — a familiar, silly rhythm that pulled Carol away from the memo she was typing and forced her to look up over the monitor of her computer.

Enter Abby Gerhard, Starbucks in hand and all dolled-up in her light blue dress. Smirking, she closed the door behind her with her foot. “Surprised to see me?”

“Shouldn’t I be?” Carol took off her glasses and smiled wearily. All had been forgiven, it seemed. She reached back to crack open a window and retrieved a pack of Virginia Slims from her briefcase. The least she could do was offer her a cigarette.

Sitting down on the edge of her desk, Abby slid one of the cups across smooth mahogany with a wry smile. “C’mon, drink up. It’s green tea.”

“I don’t know how you put up with me.” Striking a match, Carol leant forward to light Abby’s cigarette for her before extinguishing the flame with a sharp flick of her wrist.

“Years of practice, baby,” Abby quipped with a wink, blowing smoke off to the side. Crossing her legs, she took a sip of her own drink — black coffee, dark roast, Carol knew. “You alright?”

Leaning back in her office chair, Carol shook her head distractedly while taking out a cigarette of her own. “Yes, yes,” she sighed, but Abby raised an eyebrow. Carol frowned, relenting. “ _No._ I miss my daughter.”

Abby gave her a tight-lipped, sympathetic smile and flicked some ash into the marble tray placed in front of her. “I know. How much longer for the house?”

“It’s up in the air.” Carol rubbed at her neck. The subject exhausted her. “One month, maybe two. Some days I’m tempted to just… scrap the whole thing.” She sparked up her cigarette. “Move to Brooklyn.”

“Don’t you dare,” Abby scolded gently, brow set. “You’ve put a lot of work into that property, Carol.”

Looking down, Carol traced her thumb along the plastic rim of her tea, smoke spiraling up between the two of them. “Too much, perhaps.”

Abby snorted. “Stop raining on your own parade, you blockhead. Rindy will love living on the coast.” She dipped her chin knowingly. “It’ll be worth it.”

A bittersweet smile spread over red lips. “I hope so.”

Making an effort not to retreat back to despondency, Carol lifted her gaze to the small window over Abby’s shoulder. Genevieve was glancing over at them from her own desk, cheek resting in her palm, forlorn. Carol suppressed a laugh. “She’s staring at you.”

Tucking away a chestnut curl, Abby leaned forward onto one of her palms and grinned. “Why do you think I wore this dress?”

As it always did, the sun went down and the city lit up.

“Nervous?”

From the passenger seat of Dannie’s taxi, Therese Belivet lifted one of her shoulders in a shrug, trying to play off her apprehension.

Dannie glanced at her briefly, watching Therese flatten out the skirt of her green dress. “Well, you look nice,” he tried. “Is she pretty?”

Therese huffed a laugh, almost cynical. “Are you kidding?” She turned her head to look out of the window, voice dropping. “She’s so gorgeous, it makes me sick.”

“Well, try not to throw up when you’re going down on her.”

Without looking over, Therese smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

After a couple of minutes of traffic lights and smooth jazz, Dannie took it upon himself to speak up again. “So. She got a sister?”

Therese rolled her eyes. “I don’t know much about her, actually. Aside from her profession.” A pause. “And that she has a daughter.”

Dannie raised his brows at the information. “Really?” He tilted his head in contemplation. “Why would she tell you that?”

“She didn’t.” Therese toed at the the carpeted floor with the tip of her black flats, reminiscing. “I saw them last week, at the pier.”

“Huh.” Dannie scratched at the back of his head. “Where’s the kid now?”

“I don’t _know_ , Dannie. We don’t really talk.” Therese shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “What’s with the twenty questions?”

A sly smile tugged at his lips. “Curiosity is the essence of human existence.”

Therese couldn’t keep the chuckle out of the back of her throat. It was a game of theirs, throwing famous quotes back and forth when there was nothing else to be said, beginning with the end. She was grateful for the distraction.

“Human existence is an incomprehensible contradiction,” she replied cooly after jogging her memory.

Dannie was quicker. He always was. “Contradiction is what keeps sanity in place.”

“Sanity is a cozy lie,” Therese shot back, and they were both smiling by the time they neared St. Regis. “You can stop here.”

Pressing his foot to the break, Dannie came to a slow stop a few feet away from the entrance. “Embarrassed to be seen with me?” he teased, throwing the car into park.

Therese unbuckled her seatbelt and glanced at him playfully. “How’d you guess?”

Before she could escape, Dannie placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. Shoot me a text if you need a ride, yeah? I’ll be in the area.”

“I will,” Therese promised. Not that she’d readily admit it, but having somebody look out for her felt nice. She didn’t have anybody else like him. Maybe she never would. “Thanks, Dannie.”

As Therese stepped out of the cab and made her way towards the entrance, she felt butterflies fluttering in her chest again — and the two abrupt, loud honks from Dannie didn’t help at all.

“Look out, New York!” He howled through a now-open window. “It’s the _Lady Killer!_ ”

Therese was midway through twirling around, intent on calling him an asshole, but he took off before the insult could reach him.

St. Regis always felt different after dark. The lights were dimmed, the lobby was empty. If Therese were to shout, surely it would echo off of the high ceilings, rattle the chandeliers. Once in a while, during her infrequent night shifts, Therese found herself wondering whether or not the hotel was haunted. Perhaps spirits lingered in the walls. Perhaps not.

It gave her peace of mind, knowing Richard had left hours ago. If she wasn’t so afraid of losing her job, Therese would speak up, report his poor behavior to Ms. Gerhard. However, after seeing Carol react so heatedly — maybe she’d keep him around. The memory alone made her throb.

Longing to be close to her again, Therese repeatedly clicked the button for the third floor, as if the elevator would respond to her insistence. She snuck one last glance at her cellphone from the inside of her purse when the platform began to rise.

A single text had been waiting for her that afternoon, during her lunch break:

_Carol Aird: 9 PM. Don’t be late._

Not wanting to disappoint her, Therese found herself pacing quietly in front of Carol’s door ten minutes early. The more she waited, the faster her heart began to race, and she became increasingly aware of how exposing it felt to walk around without panties.

It wasn’t quite nine o’clock when Therese knocked on Carol’s door, but it was damn near close enough. Her body was beginning to ache with need. She could feel it in her bones.

Almost instantaneously, Carol Aird swung open the door, still dressed in that stunning grey business suit, and yanked her inside by the front of her dress. Her hair was halfway out of its bun, strands of blonde framing her face, and her eyes were dark with desire.

“Come here, kitten.”

“ _Oh.”_

Therese’s back hit the wall much harder than it had that morning and Carol’s hands found refuge in her hair, tugging back to expose her neck. Somewhere in the background Therese heard the door close, but the way Carol’s tongue felt dipping into the hollow of her throat — she couldn’t focus on anything else.

“God, Carol…” Moaning unabashedly, Therese allowed her to kiss and nip and lick, immediately untucking Carol’s white dress shirt so she could ghost her fingers against the hot skin underneath.

Unfortunately, the unexpected contact pulled Carol out of her ravenous state of assault and she ripped away from Therese with an aggravated gasp.

“The bed, Therese,” she ordered, disheveled and short of breath. Taking a much needed step back, Carol pointed to the plush king mattress behind her. “ _Now.”_

Therese moved so quickly that one of her ballet flats slid off, so she decided to kick away the other and drop her purse before taking a seat at the foot of Carol’s bed, neck covered in bite marks and lipstick.

In the meantime, Carol had taken off her blazer and slung it over the back of her office chair, overheated and making an effort to settle herself down. “We’ve been doing this quite backwards, haven’t we, darling?”

Fingers bunching up the white duvet, Therese let her eyes travel over the lithe body in front of her. She always radiated a sensual sort of elegance. “How do you mean?”

Carol took the elastic out of her hair and let blonde waves fall about her face. “Ordinarily, ground rules are set before anything… occurs,” she explained slowly, nearing her.

Her flowery perfume made Therese’s lashes flutter. “What sort of rules?”

“Guidelines, limits,” Carol took another step forward, watching her closely. “Safe words.”

Therese looked up, hushed, “What’s a safe word?”

“So inquisitive.” Carol swiped a lock of Therese’s hair behind her ear and cradled her cheek, thumb dragging over her bottom lip. It seemed to be one of her favorite things to do. “Eager to learn?”

Drunk with lust, Therese could only nod and suppress the urge to lean into Carol’s palm.

“First rule,” Carol took Therese’s chin in her hand. “Speak when spoken to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” With Carol so close, Therese felt her hands twitch and she reached out without thinking, gripping slim hips.

“Secondly — Therese, hands to your sides.” Carol looked down at the petite fingers hooked in her belt loops. “Behave.”

Still learning, Therese did the opposite, enamored with the flare of her waist. “What… What happens if I don’t?”

Carol didn’t push her away, but her voice fell dangerously. “Are you _asking_ to be tied up?”

Lost in the idea of what that could possibly mean, Therese felt her chest heave, breaking Carol’s first rule.

“Fine. On your back, you brat.” Carol snapped before stepping away from Therese and walking towards her closet, her expression dark. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

Heart pounding, Therese hurried to scoot back onto the mattress and rested her head against Carol’s pillow. She heard rustling from around the corner. Maybe testing her had been a mistake.

When Carol returned she had two, thin leather belts in her hand and color in her cheeks. “ _Somebody_ has forgotten how to follow instruction.” She approached Therese with long, confident strides. “Arms above your head.”

Face heating up, Therese raised her hands to rest above her. The action made her dress ride up and she pressed her thighs together.

Slinging one of the belts over her own shoulder, Carol brought Therese’s left hand to the headboard and wrapped the leather around her wrist — so swiftly that Therese knew she had done it before. Inch by inch, Carol pulled until the belt was snug.

“Too tight?” she murmured, tearing her gaze away from the alluring contrast of dark leather against fair skin.

Therese flexed the hand that was now bound and began to pant. “No, ma’am.”

Pleased with herself, Carol moved to the opposite side of the bed and tied up the other wrist, deftly as to avoid the buckle digging in. Once both hands were secure and Therese could no longer disobey, Carol stood at the foot of the bed and leisurely stepped out of her pants, admiring her work.

“You look good in my bed, you know,” Carol noted, voice tremulous with lust. She absently undid the first few buttons of her blouse. “Do you feel good in it?”

Therese, all tied up and breathless, felt heat spread over her body like wildfire. “Yes.”

With that, Carol climbed onto the bed and without warning straddled Therese’s hips, sheer black panties on full display. The sensation of strong thighs keeping her in place was enough to render Therese speechless.

“If I may begin again,” Carol growled, hands sliding up along Therese’s abdomen above the fabric of her dress. “There are limits. They can either be soft…” Her hands covered small breasts for a moment before kneading firmly. “Or _hard._ ”

Tormented, Therese arched her chest up into Carol’s palms with a soft moan.

Carol rolled her hips and circled her thumbs around Therese’s nipples through the fabric, as if the goal was to kill her. “Soft limits may be negotiated,” she explained in that low, even voice of hers. “While hard limits are those which must never be tested, under any circumstance. Alright?”

The room around her grew fuzzy. All she could see — all she ever _wanted_ to see, was Carol. “Alright.”

“We’ll figure them out as we go,” Carol cooed, finding enjoyment in exploring Therese’s body. “This brings me to my next point, kitten. Safe words.”

Carol leaned back for a moment to remove her crisp button-up, tossing it to the carpet with flair. Infatuated, Therese let her eyes roam greedily over all of this new, unblemished skin. Over her matching black bra. She could have cried.

“A safe word is a term synonymous with _stop._ ” Carol threaded her fingers through blonde tresses, tousling them as she spoke. “It can be said at any time and no punishment will be dealt.” Sitting so comfortably in her lap, Carol batted her lashes. “Do you drive, Therese?”

“Not — Not often.”

“But you _do_ remember that green means go, yellow means slow down…” Carol began to toy with the material of her bra, tracing her fingertip along the hem. “And red means stop. If there’s ever a time where you feel uncomfortable, Therese — you must let me know. With those words.”

Putting on a show, Carol let her fingers dance over the front of her bra before unclasping it, letting the straps slide down her arms prior to discarding the garment to the floor. Therese felt her breath hitch in her throat — Carol was an absolute _vision._

Blue eyes twinkled. “Still with me?”

Therese’s hands curled into fists above her, pressing against the makeshift restraints. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Look at you,” Carol tutted, smoothing her hands up along her own ribcage before cupping her naked breasts. “Look how badly you want to touch.”

Hips jerking up, Therese whined pathetically. “Carol…”

“You said before that you wanted to taste me,” Carol interrupted her, palms sliding back down.

“Uh-huh.”

“Uh-huh,” Carol mimicked, matching the light, airy tone of Therese’s voice. She rolled her hips. “Would you like that?”

Cheeks burning, Therese realized that the inside of her own thighs had grown slick with want, what with no panties acting as a barrier. She squirmed. “ _Please._ ”

In the most erotic display of acquiescence, Carol dipped one of her hands beneath her panties until her fingertips came back wet — then swiped them along Therese’s bottom lip. A taste.

Hungrily sucking her lip into her mouth, Therese hummed. Never having been with a woman before, she hadn’t known what to expect, but Carol was… exquisite.

“Not enough?” Carol taunted, rolling her hips once more.

Therese shuddered hard, wondering if Carol could read her mind. She wouldn’t put it past her. “No.”

“Well, then.”

With remarkable grace, Carol shifted away to slide her panties off and Therese whimpered at the sight of pink, swollen flesh. Moving further up on the bed, Carol gave her a simple command —casually, as if they were discussing the weather. “Tongue out.”

Overcome with the need to obey, Therese did what she was told. Carol lowered herself little by little until her pussy was flush against her tongue — and then inhaled sharply when Therese surprised her with a broad, covetous lick.

 _Undoubtedly_ exquisite.

Suddenly starving, Therese dove forward to lap and suck with fervor without being instructed to do so.

“Jesus, Therese,” Carol groaned, reaching down to take a fistful of Therese’s hair. “Such a — “ An exaggerated roll of her hips. “ _Such_ a good girl.”

Therese moaned against her, spurred on by the muted pain. The belts were beginning to make her wrists burn but Therese knew, in this moment, that she’d happily allow Carol’s pleasure to scar her.

“You know, ever since I saw you in — in the bar, I’ve wanted your p-pretty mouth on me,” Carol confessed, grinding down against Therese’s tongue, palm pressed against the wall. “Who would’ve known you’d be so _good_ at it.” A growl tore out of her throat when Therese experimentally swirled her tongue. “Eating me like it’s your d-damn job.”

Digging her heels into the mattress, Therese whined loudly, chin wet.

“ _God_ , you little slut. Is this what you wanted? Huh?” Carol’s voice was growing higher in pitch, sweet and feminine. Enamored by her response, Therese sucked hard and listened to Carol lose her composure. “Yes, just like that!”

Belts rattling against the headboard, Therese looked up and the heated eye contact seemed to be her undoing. With a jagged cry, Carol came hard against her tongue— hips stuttering, blonde hair mussed, face flushed. Therese had never seen somebody look so beautiful.

It took almost a full minute for Carol to come down, not that Therese minded, and eventually she moved away to catch her breath. “Good girl, Therese,” she exhaled, and Therese felt her body thrum wildly at her winded approval. “Very good girl.”

Soon enough, Carol was gazing over at her with a newfound appreciation, still gloriously naked. “Oh, you’re trembling,” she murmured, scooting forward. “Shall we get you out of this dress, kitten?”

“Please,” Therese begged, debauched and pitiful. She had never been so wet in her life. “Yes, please.”

“Well.” Carol had the gall to wink. “Since you asked so nicely.”

With careful fingertips, Carol unbuckled one of her wrists and paused before pressing what could _only_ have been described as a tender kiss to the abused skin. Then a second, a third.

Moved by the gesture, Therese became abruptly emotional and had to take a deep breath to calm down. She had never before gotten so worked up over being taken care of, and it left her feeling disoriented and vulnerable.

Once both of her wrists were free, Therese allowed Carol to pull her dress up and over her head, leaving her completely exposed as she had forgone wearing underwear altogether.

Holding Therese’s dress in her hands, Carol grew very quiet, lips parting as she studied her.

Her reaction made Therese stiffen with panic. Had she done something wrong? Or was she hideous, uncovered for the first time? Would she be pushed out the door, told to never return?

Carol’s soft lips on her body silenced her turmoil.

The kisses began at her clavicle, slow and hot. Then to the curve of each shoulder, the side of her neck. Beneath her jaw, the column of her throat. All unhurried, lingering, traveling down between her breasts now with promise. Gradually sinking into the mattress, Therese felt the tension begin to leave her body, her insecurities eradicated with each delicious, prolonged kiss.

She wasn’t certain just how long Carol spent softly worshiping her body, but by the time the kisses reached her hips, Therese was yielding to her in every respect.

Sensing the return of her self-repose, Carol licked a stripe from Therese’s navel up, up, up to her jaw so she could press one final kiss to the sensitive skin beneath her ear, warm fingers dipping between her thighs.

“ _There’s_ my girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind comments and kudos. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. x


	6. Chapter 6

“Dannie. _Dannie._ Damn it, wake up!”

Brown curls mussed and dark eyes bleary from sleep, Dannie shot up in bed with a gasp, shirt on backwards. “What — What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Therese, kneeling beside him in her pajamas and holding her cellphone, had dimples in her cheeks. “Dannie.”

“Scared the shit out of me,” he grumbled to himself, scrubbing a hand over his face and pouting. “What is it?”

“They sent me — I got a _reply_ —” Therese stumbled over her words, giggling and gesturing at her phone. “They messaged me, they’re asking me to —”

After a moment of squinting at the screen, Dannie’s face lit up. “No fuckin’ way!” He reached over to the window beside him and yanked open the blinds, flooding the bedroom with orange light. It was barely dawn. “Let me see!”

Therese thrust the cell in his direction and shifted so she could look over his shoulder. “That top email. Click it.”

Dannie, in his true form, cleared his throat before giving his dramatic reading:

“Dear Therese Belivet. On behalf of Airbnb _,_ I am pleased to extend to you this offer of temporary employment as an intern _,_ reporting to the department of _photography!_ If you accept this offer, you will begin your internship with Airbnb on August 1st — Holy crap!”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, the old springs in the mattress creaking under the weight of them both as she bounced in place. “I know!”

“C’mere, you little shit!” Dannie dropped her phone and reached back to pull her forward, wrestling her into the mattress with a bear hug. “I’m so proud of you!”

Over the past six months, Therese had been submitting her portfolio _all over_ New York: local magazines, online blogs, even some nearby galleries — but her lack of experience surpassed whatever talent she had to offer them. The top drawer of her nightstand was filled with rejection letters, all of which Dannie suggested she keep as motivation to continue, but Therese found them to be less inspirational and more… disheartening.

Naturally, as Therese was lazily scrolling through her phone that morning over a bowl of stale Cheerios, the soft _ping_ from her inbox was enough to make her drop her spoon.

It had been a long-shot, applying to Airbnb. The online hospitality corporation had posted an advertisement for a contract listing photographer — somebody to take pictures of the exteriors, interiors, and unique details of their properties. For obvious reasons, Airbnb had been looking for a candidate with a background in architecture, but the job listing had ended with:

_We will consider applications with portfolios that display fluency in composition, lighting, and technique._

Out of pleasure rather than reason, Therese had applied. And she had _gotten the job._

“You want waffles?” Therese grinned up at Dannie, pushing hair out of her eyes.

He smirked. “When have I ever said no to waffles?”

They ran around the apartment like children, skidding across the wooden floors, hastily grabbing miscellaneous articles of clothing and tugging them on. Dannie ended up with a pair of Therese’s overalls (his shirt now properly flipped around) and Therese was wearing Dannie’s Mets jersey with a pair of leggings.

“Westway?” Therese suggested, tugging on a black baseball cap to cover up her messy hair.

Dannie threw an arm over her shoulder and smiled. “Where else?”

Westway Diner was a cozy restaurant on 9th Avenue, all red walls and beige, cushioned booths. They had happened upon it three years ago in the middle of the night, having worked up an appetite after spending all evening on the beach.

Soon enough, the both of them were happily stuffing themselves with waffles and coffee, celebrating Therese’s win.

“So, now that you’re a big-shot photographer, you gonna quit St. Regis?”

Therese chuckled, emptying a sugar packet into her mug. “It’s a paid internship, Dannie. Not a full-time position.”

“The operative word there is _paid,_ ” Dannie countered. He scratched at the uneven stubble on his cheek. “Aren’t you sick of scrubbing toilets? You’re worth more than that.”

“I don’t know,” Therese lifted her shoulders in a shrug, speaking now around a mouthful of waffle. “They pay well.”

“So will they,” Dannie challenged, pointing at Therese’s cellphone with his sticky fork. “C’mon, Therese. Put some faith in your work.”

Therese pursed her lips. “I do have faith. You _know_ how much time I spent creating my portfolio. I just don’t feel comfortable with leaving…” Green eyes lifted from her plate to see Dannie looking over her shoulder, in a daze. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Dannie rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and tore his gaze away with a sheepish grin. “This really foxy blonde just came in. What were you saying?”

Amused, Therese couldn’t help but sneak a peek at whomever Dannie had his eye on — but upon doing so, she choked on her coffee and jerked back around, eyes wide. “Holy shit.”

Dannie guffawed. “I know, right?” He was back to cutting up his waffles. “I wish you would’ve told me you were into chicks sooner, Therese. We could have been comparing notes for like, _years_ —”

“Dannie, shh!” Pulling the brim of her cap over her eyes, Therese sunk down into the booth.

“What? I’m just saying, it would have been convenient…” He took this moment to look up again and they locked eyes, Therese silently communicating her panic in a way which only siblings could understand. Dannie nearly dropped his fork, craning his neck to look towards the entrance again. “You’re joking. No way.”

Face pink, Therese could only nod. 

Dannie leaned forward on his elbows, brown eyes flashing with amusement. “Dude. You’ve been tapping that?”

“Could you _be_ any louder?” Therese hissed, folding her arms over her stomach to make herself appear smaller. “Seriously, I can’t take you anywhere.”

Dannie tilted his head. “What did you say her name was? Carol something?”

Anxiety brewing in her chest, Therese swallowed. She looked like an absolute mess in Dannie’s wrinkled jersey, hair all ruffled — not exactly the way she preferred to present herself in front of Carol Aird.

“Let’s just — can you go get the check, please?” Therese whispered her plea. “I want to go. We should go.”

Dannie seemed to be suppressing the urge to laugh. “Don’t you want to make sure that it’s her, before we bolt?”

Therese watched as he slowly lifted his hands to cup his mouth, and gasped, “Dannie, _no —”_

“Carol!” It was an rough bark of her name, ringing across the diner, and Dannie expertly dropped his gaze to his plate, playing it off as if it didn’t come from him. 

Heart in her throat, Therese wheezed, “What is _wrong_ with you?”

After a long moment, Dannie quickly looked up and then down, a split-second glance followed by a snicker. The jingling of a bell in the distance signified the opening and closing of the front door, a departure. He folded his hands and spoke, matter-of-fact, as if Therese wasn’t having a conniption in front of him. “Yep. That was her.”

Therese promptly picked up the salt shaker, screwed off the top, and dumped half of its contents into Dannie’s coffee.

“Hey, I was drinking that!”

Just then, Therese’s phone buzzed against the table and they both looked towards the interruption.

**_Carol Aird_  
** _Text Message (1)_

Before Dannie could humiliate her any further, Therese snatched her phone and unlocked the screen with a nervous swipe of her thumb.  
  
_Carol: I like the hat._

Therese smiled. 

It took almost the entire day to muster up the courage to reply to Carol. The sun was going down, this time, as Therese sat cross-legged in bed and stared down at her phone. With a deep breath, she _finally_ hit send.

_Therese: When can I see you?_

A response came ten minutes later.

_Carol: Friday. Late._

Her heart sank. It was Saturday night — she had hoped it would have been tomorrow. _Sundays with Carol._ She expressed her disappointment without thinking.

_Therese: That’s a long wait._

_Carol: I’ll be away on business. It’s out of my hands, darling._

_Therese: Oh. Have a safe journey._

She smacked her palm to her forehead and groaned. Have a safe _journey?_ Could she have sounded any more like a dork?

As the days passed, Carol found herself missing New York. Normally she quite enjoyed traveling, this time to northern Maine to help with an appraisal, but the hotel rooms she was placed in weren’t — the _same_ , as St. Regis. The Madison Suite was hardly a home, but it had become something akin to it over the past month.

After busting her ass and working overnight to please her clients, Carol was able to fly back a day early — only to be hung up by several delays and long hours spent sitting in the Houston International terminal. Once she _finally_ landed in New York, Carol walked a few blocks to shake off the stiffness in her legs before hailing a cab.

“St. Regis, please,” she breathed, exhausted as she climbed inside with her rolling suitcase. The time on Carol’s cell read 11:42 PM. Good Lord. Her bed was calling for her, singing a sweet lullaby of the comfort to come.

The driver, a short man with curly hair, did a double take in the rearview mirror before grumbling to himself, shifting the car into drive. “Some nerve.”

Carol opened her eyes that had been half-closed from fatigue, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

“You know, it’s real great what you’ve got goin’ on with Therese,” the man raised his voice, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as they turned the corner. “But I’d like to see her every once in a while.”

Of course. Out of all of the taxis in Manhattan, she had chosen the roommate — the boy from Westway. David? Derek? Dannie. Carol rubbed at her eyes, trying to make sense of whatever the hell he was saying.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play dumb, Carol,” Dannie spat out her name like it tasted foul in his mouth. “She’s been spending every night this week at the dumb hotel, doing god-knows-what with you.”

Carol stiffened at his tone and frowned, confused and not in the mood to be griped at by a complete stranger. “I certainly don’t know what abou—”

Dannie cut her off. “She comes home in the morning for like, maybe two hours tops — ready to fall over — then leaves again! Are you trying to kill her? What are you —”    
  
“May I speak!” Carol intervened, glaring at him. This effectively silenced his rant and she took a deep breath to rein in her temper. “First of all, _Dannie_ , Therese is an adult. She’s more than capable of deciding how and with whom she spends her time.”

“Yeah, but —”

“I’m not finished.” Carol caught his sneer in the mirror. “Secondly, I have been away for the past _week._ Out of state. I haven’t seen Therese, let alone spoken to her, in several days.” She dipped her chin, voice deep with discontent. “I’m a busy woman. I don’t have the time, nor the desire to — to keep her under lock and key. She is, in every respect, a free woman.”

With a dark look on his face and brows furrowed, Dannie silently pulled up in front of St. Regis, and Carol scowled, rummaging around in her purse.

“There is one thing that you must understand, Dannie.” Carol looked up, blue eyes icy and cold. “My relationship with Therese, no matter how much you may care about her, is absolutely _none_ of your business.”

With that, she slapped two twenties on the console in front of her and ended their conversation. “Keep the change.”

Dannie’s nasty assumption that she would _abuse_ Therese was enough to make Carol’s blood boil, the sour cherry on top of her terrible day. Heels echoing ominously against the ceramic tiles of the hotel lobby, Carol slammed her thumb against the elevator button and grumbled to herself all the way up.

Upon stepping inside the Madison, Carol noticed that all of the lights have been kept on, but she didn’t question it, assuming that she had forgotten to turn them off before leaving for Maine. She was craving something strong — whiskey, maybe — and her newly purchased pack of cigarettes.

Carol was midway through striking her lighter when she noticed the brunette in her bed. She was fast asleep on her stomach, one of the corners of the contour sheet not yet pulled over the edge, a pile of folded linens sitting on the floor beside her.

Startled, Carol stumbled backwards and extinguished the flame. _Therese?_

Unlit cigarette still resting between her lips, Carol narrowed her eyes at the image in front of her. Therese was out cold, one arm dangling over the side of the bed as hot breaths puffed against Carol’s pillow.

Unbridled concern swelled uncomfortably in her stomach.

Setting down her cigarette and lighter, Carol quietly stepped out into the hallway to place a call.

“Welcome back,” Abby answered warmly. “How was the flight?”

Shutting the door behind her, Carol rolled her jaw and got straight to the point. “Why is Therese passed out in my suite?”

“Is _that_ where she is?” Abby chuckled. “Silly girl never punched in.”

Overwhelmed by the lack of clarity the night had to offer her, Carol persisted, “Doesn’t she work in the afternoons only? What is this about?”

“Don’t get testy with me,” Abby huffed into the receiver. “It was Therese who approached me about all of this overtime. Apparently she needs to afford some sort of camera-doohickey by next week — I’m doing her a kindness, really.”

Maybe it was the jet lag, or perhaps the residual frustration from her taxi excursion, but Carol was close to snapping her phone in half. “What, by allowing her to work until she’s indisposed? Why didn’t you just… give her a raise, Abby? Or a bonus? This is just — blatant _negligence._ ”

Abby’s voice was hushed with alarm. “Calm down, Carol.”

“I will not calm down,” Carol gritted out, shoulders tight. “This is unacceptable. Fix it.”

Allowing no room for argument, she hung up and stalked towards the staircase that led to King Cole Bar. Midway through downing her second mint julep, Carol’s phone lit up with three new texts from Abby.

 

Shoving the phone into her back pocket of her jeans, Carol drained the rest of her glass and slammed it back down onto the counter. “Fine.”

When Therese awoke, her neck was stiff and the digital clock beside her read 2:49 AM. She frowned. Something was off. The illuminated numbers were green, not red — and when she turned over, Therese discovered that she was laying beneath a thick duvet rather than her thin, yellow quilt.

Disoriented, she sat up on her elbows and squinted into the darkness. Not too far away sat a slender blonde, typing away on her laptop. Beside her was an empty Manhattan glass and an ashtray full of cigarettes. The glow from the screen was enough to illuminate her face.

Therese’s voice was scratchy from sleep. “What am I doing here?”

Carol froze for a moment before hastily minimizing several windows. “Resting.”

“But, I — you —” Therese looked around, and as the fog lifted she felt panic grip at her throat, choking her. “I have to go _._ ”

Sensing her dismay, Carol put out her cigarette and turned on the lamp beside her. “Therese.”

Therese was already up and out of bed, glancing at the clock once more. “I’m going to be late for my second shift,” she fretted, smoothing out her uniform. “I cannot believe I just fell asleep —”

Carol swiveled around in her office chair, trying to catch her gaze. “ _Therese._ ”

“I’m so sorry for taking your bed,” Therese continued, searching in the dark for her basket of cleaning supplies. Nearing Carol, she whimpered in distress, still half-asleep. “I could have left — I _should_ have left —”

“Therese!” With a hard frown, Carol uncrossed her legs and pointed at the ground beside her. “ _Kneel_.”

It was a command Carol had never given before. Not to Therese, not to any other woman, and she hadn’t expected it to work — at least not so soon in their relationship.

But Therese, tout de suite, obeyed. She yielded to Carol, _beautifully._

It was enough to make Carol’s head spin.

Slowly, carefully, Therese fell to her knees, exhaustion breaking over her in waves as the tension subsided. She wrapped her arms around Carol’s calf and bowed her head, eyes falling shut.

Overcome by her response, Carol pushed her reading glasses up into her hair and leant forward. “Look at you,” she murmured, affectionately threading her fingers through brown locks. “My kitten, all tuckered out.”

Therese let her forehead fall against Carol’s knee. “Tired.”

“I know,” Carol cooed, running her hand along Therese’s spine. The grip on her leg tightened. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“But I have to work,” Therese protested weakly. “I have to.”

“You’ve done enough, Therese.” Carol studied the slow rise and fall of Therese’s chest. The poor girl was moments away from falling asleep against her damn leg. Upset with Abby all over again, she reached down to help Therese to her feet. “C’mon, sweetheart. Up you go.”

Reluctantly, Therese stood and allowed Carol to lead her back to the mattress. She noticed that the bed was now fully-made, the sheets and pillows in their proper places. When had Carol come in? Wasn’t she due to return tomorrow?

“You’re back early,” Therese heard herself comment while slipping under the covers.

Carol was busying herself with taking off Therese’s shoes. “I am.”

Therese nuzzled herself further into the warm bed, mumbling without consideration, “I missed you.”

Pale hands stilled at the foot of the bed at Therese’s admission — but when Carol looked up, Therese was already snoring softly, pink lips parted, dark hair falling over her cheek.

Sighing, Carol approached her and pulled the comforter over Therese’s shoulders. She gazed longingly at the empty other half of the mattress; there was more than enough room for the two of them, but the thought of spending the night laying next to Therese— innocently, intimately — was enough to make Carol bristle with unease.

That’s not how the two of them worked. That’s not how Carol would _allow_ them to work.

With delicate fingers, she removed a pillow from the opposite side of the bed, retrieved a spare blanket from the closet, and set herself up to sleep on the couch across the suite. It had been a long day for Carol, too. At this point, she easily could have slept on the floor.

But before she settled into the sofa, Carol slipped off her heels and returned to her laptop. For the hundredth time that night, her eyes flitted about the webpage she had previously minimized, contemplative and weary.

After sparing one last glance at the slumbering maid, Carol yawned and clicked _add to cart._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments and kudos. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter (despite the lack of smut). ;)


	7. Chapter 7

Several hours later, Therese awoke to the sound of a particularly abrasive car alarm three stories below. Having been born and raised in New York, she was more than used to the jagged lullaby of sirens and construction, but every now and then it still managed to jolt her out of a sound sleep.

Thick lashes fluttering, she stretched, her toes curling against the cool, crisp sheets of Carol’s bed. Her eyes shot open. _Carol’s bed._

Hazy memories of the night before came filtering into her sleepy brain and Therese sat up in order to piece them together.

“Hello, there.”

Across the suite stood Carol, applying lipstick in the open vanity. She was dressed in another tailored suit today — baby blue, this time — and had seemingly already showered by the way her soft blonde curls fell lush against her cheeks. The amused smile on her lips brought heat to Therese’s face.

“Hello.”

“Sleep well?”

Self-conscious as to how she must look first thing in the morning, Therese ran a hand over her hair, smoothing out any imperfections and pulled the sheets closer to her. “Yes. Thank you.”

Green eyes then fell to the couch beside Carol, to the pillow and woolen blanket thrown across it. Guilt splashed across Therese’s face as she frowned. “I could’ve —” She gestured vaguely at the sofa. “You didn’t have to…”

Unaffected, Carol cut her off. “I’ve spoken to your supervisor,” she informed her cooly, putting on a pair of sapphire earrings. “She’s given you the day off.”

Therese felt her heart sink, the panic from last night being to fester all over again. “She did?”

“You should leave.” Having received little to no response, Carol glanced over and uncapped a tube of mascara with a _pop_. “Your roommate, he’s concerned about you,” she clarified.

Bewildered, Therese brought her knees up to her chest beneath the blanket. “How do you know that?”

Carol leaned closer to the mirror, still effortlessly graceful while applying the brush to her lashes. “I ran into him last night. He drove me here.”

“Oh.” Therese looked down, trying to imagine how that interaction must have played out. Her eyes widened in apprehension.

“He seems to believe that I’m holding you hostage.” Carol gave her a pointed look, placing the mascara into the shiny black pouch that Therese knew held the rest of her makeup.

Wincing, Therese looked up. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been completely honest with him.”

Zipping the bag closed with a swift flick of her wrist, Carol turned to face her, eyebrow raised. “And why is that?”

Therese squirmed under her disapproval. “I need to purchase this camera,” she began to explain. “An expensive one, for an internship. I didn’t realize until late that I didn’t have the correct equipment, so I had to save up for it right away.”

Carol crossed her arms and leant back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other, clearly unsatisfied with her commentary thus far.

“He has some money, set aside,” Therese continued, her ears burning. “For his dream car, this — this vintage Cadillac. He wants to drive it around Los Angeles, become a big screenwriter.” She cleared her throat, knowing that she was straying away from the topic at hand. “Anyway, I knew that he would insist on me tapping into his savings if I told him.”

After a long, paralyzing moment, Carol pushed off of the wall and moved to retrieve her briefcase. “I see.”

“I appreciate you talking to Ms. Gerhard for me,” Therese insisted, slipping out from under the covers as her trepidation grew. “But I really do need this overtime. I should go talk to her —”

“Therese.” Carol gave her a look Therese had never seen before. Something hesitant, unsure. Nervous. Then, simply, “It’s been taken care of.”

Standing now, Therese furrowed her brows, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Go home, kitten,” Carol told her again, but this time it was firm, an instruction. She gave her one last glance before slipping out of the room. “Let it be.”

Back in her studio apartment, Therese and Danny stood in silence, staring down at the opened cardboard box on the kitchen counter in front of them.

“I can’t believe she bought it for you.”  
  
“Neither can I.”

Another long silence, as the two of them processed the generous gift. The total cost of both the camera and the pair of lenses, Therese knew, was upwards of $800.

Dannie eventually pulled his eyes away to study his sister. “Are the two of you an item now?”

“No, no…” Therese shook her head. “Nothing like that.”

Bemused, Dannie let out a brief huff of a laugh — a sharp exhale through his nose — before opening one of the kitchen drawers. “I gotta get me one of those.”

Therese made a face, looking towards him. “The camera?”

“No,” Dannie smirked, pulling out a bottle opener. “A sugar mama.”

Taken aback by the label, Therese gave him a nervous chuckle. “ _Dannie._ ”

“You’re a lucky girl,” he shrugged, popping the cap off of his beer. Having a drink so early in the afternoon would have been strange if he hadn’t just come home from an overnight shift. “She got real bent out of shape when I…”

Dannie trailed off, shamefaced and took a quick swig of his beer.

“When you accused her of mistreating me?” Therese carefully closed up the package, her voice low with disappointment.

“What was I supposed to think, Ther?” His defense was a weak one.

“I don’t know, maybe that I have a strong work ethic and know better than to let somebody push me around?”

Dannie was looking down at the bottle in his hands, nervously picking at the corner of the label. His voice lifted in a sheepish apology. “I love you…?”

Rounding the corner to get a bottle of water, Therese gave him a playful shove against his shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

And just like that, all had been forgiven. Dannie trilled his fingers against the counter before perking up. “Wanna watch a movie?”

Of course, even after a ten hour shift, the boy wanted to sit in front of a screen. Therese shut the door to the fridge with a smile, still reeling from Carol’s purchase. “Sure.” A pause, then — “But I get to pick.”

Both of them raced towards the living room, wanting to beat each other to the remote. Dannie was faster, victorious. “Very funny, Therese.”

Across town, Carol and Abby sat in Central Park, sharing a bench and pack of Camel Lights. Both were wearing sunglasses to dim the hot afternoon.

“I can’t believe you bought it for her.”

“Neither can I.”

Flustered by the notion all over again, Carol pulled out a fresh cigarette and flicked open the lid of her golden Zippo.

Abby crossed one leg over the other, eyeing her behind her shades, teasing her. “Are the two of you an item now?”

Tickled by the idea, Carol chuckled and took a prolonged, gratifying drag, deciding not to respond.

“I’ve got to get me one of those.”

Exhaling off to the side, Carol turned the cool metal over in her hand. “The lighter?”

Abby gave her a mischievous grin. “A maid.”

Carol laughed, uninhibited and loud, before thinking back to her secretary. “Trouble in paradise?”

“We’ve been… fighting,” Abby confessed, lifting one of her shoulders and tapping away some ash.

“Oh?”

“I saw Gen with another woman last week. Lost my temper.” Abby took a pull off of her cigarette before admitting in a mumble, “Turned out to be her cousin.”

“ _Abby,_ ” Carol scolded gently, swatting at her arm. “Did you apologize?”

“Not really. You know how I am.”

Carol absently twisted a blonde curl around her finger, glad that the subject had changed. “Well, I’d say that’s the first step to rectifying the situation.”

“I know, I know…” Abby sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I’m not good at this.”

“What is it that people say?” Carol tilted her head, voice laden with amusement. “Follow your heart?”

Abby leaned back against the park bench with a smirk, bringing the cigarette to her lips again. “Bold of you to assume I have one.”

At half-past three, Dannie was fast asleep, curled up on the couch and hugging a purring Lou to his chest. He had put on some artsy, Mexican film entitled _Y Tu Mamá También,_ thrilled with the idea of sharing all of the trivia he knew — but had ended up passing out in the third act.

Therese took this reprieve to take out her cellphone and tap Carol’s name.

_Therese: I don’t know how I could even begin to thank you._

Seconds later, three dots appeared on the bottom of the screen, and Therese felt her breath hitch.

_Carol: I can think of a few things._

Therese caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

_Therese: Can I still see you tonight?_

_Carol: I don’t remember cancelling._

_Therese: When?_ — and then, daring her — _Where?_

But Carol didn’t waver. The reply came just as easily as the others.

_Carol: Death & Co. Have you heard of it?_

_Therese: No, I haven’t._

_Carol: It’s a bar, on 6th St. Meet me there. 8 PM._

Therese’s heart began to race. They had never met outside of St. Regis.

_Therese: What should I wear?_

_Carol: A dress._

_Carol: Just a dress._

Eight o’clock couldn’t come soon enough. With Dannie out cold in the living room, Therese was able to take a shower and freshen up without any interruption. The lack of his playful jabs gave her the confidence needed to apply some light makeup and slip into one of her fancier black dresses — satin, with a sweetheart neckline. It fell an inch or two above her knees, just how she knew Carol liked it.

Without any panties, Therese made a conscious effort to remain modest during the cab ride there, pressing her thighs together as she looked out of the window. New York was always so pretty, at night. All neon lights and street performers. At a red light she cracked open the window to listen an old man playing his trumpet, some jazzy sort of tune that made Therese’s skin tingle.

Death & Company, she soon discovered, was a hidden cocktail bar with old-fashioned doors made out of horizontal planks of wood, rustic poles holding up the awning above them. The brick was painted a muted green and the name of the business was engraved into the concrete where a welcome mat would have been placed.

After paying the driver, Therese timidly stepped out onto the sidewalk, steadying herself in her short, nude kitten-heels she had decided upon last minute. Out front were a few stragglers leaning against the wall, all dressed nicely and engaging in easy, drunken conversation.

Therese glanced at her watch and hesitated by the entrance. She was five minutes early. Did Carol want her to meet inside? Would she have to find a table, or a place at the bar all by herself?

A warm hand pressed against the small of her back, accompanied by a low, familiar voice that soothed Therese in an instant. “You look good enough to eat.”

Electricity, sizzling and hot, spread along Therese’s spine, down her legs and arms, her fingers and toes, then back up her neck as it settled into her bones. Turning, she took in the absolute _fantasy_ that was Carol and felt herself swoon.

This evening, Carol had chosen an thin blouse the color of rubies, one that exposed her collarbones and her beautiful neck, all perfectly tucked into a black pencil-skirt to accentuate her narrow waist. Her shiny, beige heels added to the height difference that the both of them seemed to enjoy.

“You are… remarkable,” Therese breathed, and she could have sworn there had been color in Carol’s cheeks.

Reaching forward to open the door for the both of them, Carol gave her a coy smile. “After you, darling.”

The interior of the bar propelled them into the past. With lighting scarce and cherry oak flooring, Death & Co was dark, moody, the bartenders dressed in bow ties and suspenders behind vast marble counters. It was magnificent, really, and packed with people. Therese began to wonder whether or not they would be able to find a seat, but Carol addressed the host before she could voice her concern.

“Two, under Ross.”

The man, dapper with his hair slicked back, nodded once and began to lead them towards the back of the establishment. “Right this way.”

All the way there, Carol kept her hand on Therese’s back, steady, promising.

The booth given to them was the very last on the left, away from the rest of the bar, seat cushions circular as to allow the patrons to sit close to one another. The table was covered in a long, black tablecloth that fell all the way to the floor and Therese could tell that the linen was fine, expensive material as it brushed over her knees. Against the wall was a single oil lamp that illuminated the area in soft, yellow light.

Upon sitting down, Therese waited for the host to leave before speaking up. “What happened to Aird?”

Carol tucked aside a loose strand of hair, one that had fallen out of the clip that held the rest of it back. She curved it around her ear, showing off an elegant diamond earring. “The name no longer belongs to me, as of this morning.”

Therese didn’t know how to react. After happening upon Carol with her daughter two weeks ago, she figured that there had been a husband at some point — but she had also assumed that their marriage was _null_ , what with their current sexual relationship.

Had she been aiding to an affair? Was she the _other woman?_

Eventually, Therese found her voice. “You were married?”

“Barely.” It was a quiet scoff, full of distant regret. Blue eyes found green. “He’s no longer in the picture.”

“What happened?”

“Another time,” Carol eluded with a small smile, reaching forward to rest her hand atop Therese’s on the table. She skimmed her thumb over her wrist, reminiscent of the night they first met. Her tone deepened. “Have I mentioned how stunning you look in that dress?”

Therese ducked her head, cheeks hot. She kept her gaze on the affectionate gesture, committing it to memory.

One of the bartenders took this moment to approach them. Carol, never ashamed, did not pull away.

“How may I start the two of you off, tonight?” He smiled, eying their hands with renewed interest before addressing Carol first.

“I’ll have a Boulevardier, two cherries,” she answered smoothly, disregarding the drink menu in front of them.

“Excellent choice,” he complimented, before turning to Therese.

She swallowed hard, put on the spot. “Um. A glass of Cabernet,” Therese stammered, far less graceful than her partner. She heard Carol chuckle beside her. “Thank you.”

Once the two of them were alone, Carol began to trace circles against Therese’s palm with the tip of her thumb. She was smiling again. “Cabernet?”

“Wine makes me feel naughty, but in a good way,” Therese murmured, eyes back on those red, manicured nails.

Carol slowly threaded their fingers together, well aware of the effect she had on Therese. Her voice had returned to that low, scandalous depth. “And do you intend on being naughty tonight, Therese?”

Looking up, Therese took a deep breath, but it stuttered in her chest. “If you’d like me to be.”

They locked eyes and didn’t break away, suddenly tranquil — as if the world could fall to pieces around them and they would be left unscathed, unharmed. Just the two of them and nobody else.

After some time, Mr. Bartender broke their reverie by setting down their respective drinks. “Enjoy.”

Carol’s cocktail matched her blouse, blood-red and garnished with a silver toothpick speared through a pair of sweet cherries. She took one of them between her white, perfect teeth before swallowing it with a playful lick of her lips. “Divine.”

Flustered by Carol’s seduction, Therese took a generous sip of her wine to settle her nerves. It didn’t help that Carol had chosen to scoot closer, brushing their knees together. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Tell me more about this internship,” Carol prompted, taking a dainty sip of her own drink.

“Well, I’ve been hired to —” Casually, Carol placed her hand against Therese’s bare thigh. At the contact, Therese instantly lost her train of thought.

“Yes?” Carol’s hand slid further up, hot and flirtatious.

Therese became progressively mindful of her lack of panties — she had been throbbing since the moment she laid eyes on Carol. “To take pictures,” she managed. “Of homes.”

Carol was so close to her now, hiking up the fabric of Therese’s dress. “Have you done this before?” she cooed, tapered fingers dancing against Therese’s hip.

“What?” Therese choked out, unsure of where to look. If she dipped her head to watch Carol’s hand, it would make their activity rather obvious, so she eventually settled on staring into her glass of wine.

“Architectural photography.” Carol shifted even closer, tapping Therese’s thigh — a silent command to spread her legs.

Obeying, Therese’s breaths came short, infrequent. “Not really. I’m —” Carol’s nails scratched against the apex of her thigh. “It’s new territory for me.”

“They must have really enjoyed what you submitted.” Fingertips continued their descent.

Tightly gripping the crystal stem of her glass, Therese willed her hips not to jerk forward. “I suppose.”

Carol hummed lazily, took a sip of her cocktail, and pressed her fingers against Therese’s clit.

Not having expected Carol to go through with it, Therese gasped raggedly through a whimper.

“Shh,” Carol chastised, but her eyes were twinkling. “We’re in _public._ ”

Therese began to tremble, glancing around as Carol teased her. Nobody was paying the slightest bit of attention to them and she wondered if Carol had chosen this faraway booth for a reason.

Digging her toes into the ground, Therese bit back a whine, instead whispering, “Carol…”

Impervious and smirking, Carol dipped her fingers down along her pussy and discovered just how wet Therese really was. “Such a good girl you are,” she spoke almost to herself, circling her clit now with slick fingertips.

Out of the corner of her eye, Therese saw the host from before walking towards them and Carol slowly slid her hand away, leaving a wet trail over the top of her thigh.

Letting out a rush of breath, Therese attempted to act natural, her neck and face flushed.

The man’s inquiry was simple. “Satisfied?” He must have been the owner.

“Very,” Carol answered for the two of them, tossing him a charming smile and firmly gripping Therese’s knee. Therese gave him a curt nod, unable to formulate a response in her current state of distress.

Happy enough with their approval, the man retreated to the front once more and Carol brought her toothpick to Therese’s lips, offering her the remaining cherry. “Open.”

Dazzled by the ravishing woman in front of her, Therese took the sweet berry between her lips, savored it, watched as Carol’s eyes began to dilate. Inspired by the reaction, Therese dipped her chin and lifted up some of the tablecloth, searching.

Curious, Carol rested her chin against her palm and looked her up and down. “Drop something?”

“I just wanted to see how clean the floors are.”

Carol stiffened, surprised, glanced towards the wooden floors herself. “Nearly spotless,” she commented, but her voice was thick. With dark eyes she asked her slowly, “What are you thinking, kitten?”

Petite hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. “I’m thinking that…” Therese dragged her teeth over her lower lip. “That I’d like to…”

“I suggest that you do so now, before we’re interrupted again.” Carol’s voice remained even, self-assured, but Therese could tell that she was rattled by the way her nails began to dig into her knee.

She didn’t need to be asked twice. With one last look over her shoulder and what she hoped looked like a casual sip of her wine, Therese slipped underneath the table to kneel in front of Carol.

Even though she was completely concealed by the tablecloth, Therese shook with nerves. Publicly pleasuring Carol seemed fantastical in her head, but now that she was met with the activity head-on, Therese was beginning to doubt herself.

Carol noticed. She always noticed, and one hand slipped beneath the cloth to sink into Therese’s hair, thumb brushing over the shell of her ear as she parted her legs, beckoning her forward.

Hands experimentally smoothing over creamy thighs, Therese moved closer — and became aware of two things as her eyes adjusted to the dark: Carol wasn’t wearing any panties, either. And she was very, very wet.

Therese moaned and Carol tugged on her hair as a reprimand.

Body humming with desire, Therese nipped greedily at the inside of her thighs, kissing here and there, no doubt removing her coral lipstick in the process. Carol’s nails scratched fondly at the back of her neck and Therese nuzzled against her leg at the attention.

But Carol was growing impatient. She cleared her throat just loud enough, pushing her closer, and Therese knew by now not to leave her waiting. So she closed her eyes, pressed a plush kiss against Carol’s clit, and dragged her tongue up along her pussy.

Carol faltered. She shuddered, gasped audibly, tightened her grip, rolled her hips against her mouth. It drove Therese wild.

Wanting nothing else but to please her and indulge in how sweet Carol tasted, Therese surged forward, sucking and tasting, her head bobbing lewdly between Carol’s thighs when she found her rhythm.

To her cheeky satisfaction, Therese heard Carol groan and then disguise it as a cough. She giggled against her, sucking harder — only to have her hair yanked. It was something that Carol had introduced her to, the pleasure that came with pain. Therese never would have imagined that the sting of a lover could be so arousing.

Then, startling them both, a stranger approached. “What’s somebody as beautiful as yourself doing here alone?”

Therese paused, pressing wet lips to Carol’s thigh as she waited.

“I’m not alone, actually,” Carol replied, clearing the rasp out of her voice as she removed her hand from Therese’s hair.

“Really, now? I don’t see anybody.” A pause. “May I sit?”

“No, you may not,” Carol forced out, because Therese was gifting her with little kitten licks against her clit. “My — My _wife_ , she’s in the restroom.”

“Oh, well — sorry for interrupting,” the man coughed, clearly embarrassed that he had been barking up the wrong tree. “I’ll leave you be.”

Therese waited for the his footsteps to fade away before diving back into Carol, tongue swirling, teeth grazing, lapping at her as if she were dying of thirst.

Carol smacked her palm against the table, trying to contain herself, and her hand returned to its place deep in Therese’s hair. “Good, _good_ girl,” she growled, then — under her breath, “I’m close.”

Heart flipping in her chest and her own hips bucking, Therese dipped two fingers into Carol’s pussy, pumping in time with her unforgiving licks. As much as she would have _loved_ to remain between her thighs all night, Therese’s knees were beginning to ache against the hard wood and Carol was too delicious for her to hold back.

Panting above her, Carol let a whimper escape. Therese knew she was on the edge by the way she began to tighten around her fingers, and with one final, pointed flick of her tongue, Carol came hard, biting down on her knuckles to silence her cry.

Once the aftershocks of her orgasm began to dwindle away, Therese carefully removed her fingers and took a moment to catch her breath, kissing the side of Carol’s knee as her chest heaved.

Carol let her hand fall to Therese’s shoulder and squeezed softly, silently communicating that it wasn’t safe for her to come up just yet. She waited another minute or two — evidently a large party was passing by — before signaling her with two taps against her back.

“Now, Therese.”

Wiping at her chin with the back of her hand, Therese lifted the black linen and pushed up and back into her seat. She squinted, the outside world much brighter than it had been below, and pushed some of her messy hair out of her face before glancing at Carol.

And god, did Carol look thoroughly fucked.

Blue eyes blown, she addressed her hungrily, lipstick smudged, cheeks pink. Knowing that it would be impossible to fully regain her composure, Carol pulled out a few bills from her wallet and took Therese by the wrist to tug them out of the bar.

Thrumming with want and disheveled, Therese stumbled behind her, not caring that she looked like a slut in her twisted dress. Once they were outside, Carol wrapped her arm around her waist, keeping her close as they walked towards what seemed to be a large parking garage next door.

“That was very, very naughty of you, Therese,” Carol husked, their heels reverberating against the concrete of the building when they entered. Tucked away in the first row of cars sat a spectacular silver Rolls-Royce and Carol reached into her purse to unlock the luxury vehicle, brake lights casting shadows. “Do you know what naughty little girls get?”

Knees sore and lips swollen, Therese shivered. “N-No.”

Carol yanked open the back door, aggressive and driven by lust. “They get _spanked_.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. Sorry for the wait. I wanted it to be just right. x

_They get spanked._

Therese was six years old the first time she witnessed a spanking.

Six hours west of Manhattan in the small town of Red House was an even smaller house of worship — St. Alicia’s, an ancient chapel surrounded by willow trees that sat at the very top of a hill in the center of everything. A schoolhouse was connected to the back of it, a rickety structure where Sunday school was held for the local children.

No matter the weather, Therese and Dannie had ambled up the winding path every weekend, tattered backpacks digging into their shoulders and feet aching from their worn-out sneakers. It was pertinent that they had never missed a lesson. _The word of the Lord endures forever_ , the Home had hammered into their skulls. _Jesus Christ is always there for us._

It had been an early morning, mid-spring. On either side of the classroom were two windows, both opened halfway to let in the April breeze, occasionally lifting the corners of worksheets or flipping the page of a textbook as it swept over the area. Therese and Dannie sat in the very back, away from the rest of the children — children who were dressed much _nicer_ than they were, their hair neatly combed back or braided into pigtails, tied off with ribbons.

Midway through scripture, the rowdiest boy of the group had thrown a paper airplane across the classroom, the wind sweeping it up and making it dance in the air. The sight had caused the children to break out into a fit of hushed giggles, effectively disrupting the sacred reading.

Disappointed and frowning, Sister Judith had set down her bible, retrieved a ruler from the desk drawer, and instructed the boy to come to the front of the class. He had already surpassed three warnings that morning and the elderly nun was through with dealing with his poor behavior.

So she had bent him over her desk, told him that he had deserved this level of discipline, and swatted him ten times on his behind with the wooden stick.

After the fifth smack, the boy had begun to cry — sore, embarrassed in front of his peers. Most of the children had averted their gaze, uncomfortable and frightened, but Therese couldn’t look away.

Because she had never, _ever_ been punished.

Not unlike most children her age, Therese had misbehaved. She had neglected to sweep the kitchen because she’d rather read in the children’s quarters. She had hidden in the closet to avoid eating her vegetables. She had even gotten into a bit of a fight with Dannie one winter, both of them pulling hair and kicking as they argued over who got to sleep with the blanket that evening.

Nevertheless, Therese’s misconduct had never earned her a tug at her ear, a timeout in the corner, not even a firm talking to — because out of all of the children at the orphanage, she was the only one who still _technically_ had a living parent. She had been dropped off as a toddler, thrown away.

The caretakers figured that abandonment had been punishment enough.

Fifteen years later in the middle of a parking garage in the East Village, Therese was met with a idea so faraway that she nearly fell to the ground.

“I said get _in_.” Carol Ross, wild with beauty and desire, was staring at her expectantly while holding open the car door. A pause, then harshly: “Unless you don’t believe that you deserve it?”

“No, I do!” Therese blurted, her voice strangled with concern, worried that she had ruined her one chance at — whatever this was. She scrambled into the backseat, practically thrilled, ready to follow instruction blindly, dutifully.

Sliding in after her, Carol slammed the door closed and reached up to hastily clip back her hair. Her voice shook as she addressed Therese. “Do you understand why you’re being punished?”

Therese sank back into the cushion, hands nervously curling into tiny fists at her sides. “Yes, ma’am.”

Fingers fumbling around a bobby pin, Carol drank in the sight of Therese trembling beside her. “Then _tell_ me. Use your words.”

“B-Because…” To her chagrin, Therese felt her eyes already begin to burn. She blinked rapidly to fight away the sting. “Because I was a bad girl.”

Carol took Therese’s chin in her hand, demanding eye contact. “Bad _how_?”

“I… I didn’t ask — I didn’t ask before I…” Therese tried her best to spit the words out, shifting in her seat. The throbbing between her legs was prominent now, distracting her.

“Before you put your slutty little mouth on me in public?” Carol spat, letting go to push her sleeves up past her elbows with purpose. “Is that an accurate description of your misbehavior, Therese?”

On the verge of falling apart, Therese blushed fiercely and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

After swiftly sliding back her seat to allow even more room, Carol bunched the front of Therese’s dress in her fist and roughly pulled her forward, snarling, “Over my lap, little girl.”

With a ragged gasp Therese fell forward, one of her heels falling off, pulse thundering in her ears as she positioned herself over Carol’s knees. Her throat felt tight as she dug her blunt nails into the leather seat. “I’m— I’m sorry,” she whimpered, hair askew.

“Oh, you will be,” Carol shot back in that low, candid voice of hers. She pressed her left hand against Therese’s lower back before flipping over the satin material of her dress to expose her bare ass.

Therese heard a sharp intake of breath above her, followed by the sensation of a warm hand smoothing over the curve of her behind. Tears began to build up all over again at the promise of cherished affliction.

“Normally, I’d have you count,” Carol growled after a moment, clearly grappling with her own self-control, “But right now, I’d rather you just _take it_.” With that, she delivered three sharp, unforgiving smacks to the underside of Therese’s bottom.

Pain spread instantly over her exposed skin, stinging and hot, and Therese let out a breathless yelp as she adjusted to it. Her hands tried to find purchase on anything in front of her, something to keep her grounded, and eventually settled on the center seatbelt.

“I cannot _believe_ how naughty you were tonight,” Carol sneered, incredulous. Three more spanks. “Falling to your knees like a — like a _desperate_ little —“ Four more spanks.

Bottom lip trembling, Therese couldn’t hold back any longer, hot tears rolling down burning cheeks, her ass on fire as Carol’s hand continued to deliver blows. She was growing dizzier with each series of smacks, back arching as she squirmed in her lap.

Taking notice of Therese’s distress, Carol took a moment to pause, catch her breath, massage the abused skin. Her voice was tremulous, cautious. “Yellow?”

Overwhelmed by how much she was starting to _enjoy_ this level of pain, Therese squeezed her thighs together and pressed her muffled whimper into the seat. “Green.”

Carol huffed a dark laugh and firmly kneaded the right side of Therese’s sore ass, making the brunette groan and push up into her palm.

“You _like_ this, don’t you?” she mocked. “Having your naughty little ass beat.” She emphasized her statement with a particularly hard smack. Her hair was falling out of her pins again.

Therese cried out and nodded unabashedly, defenses demolished, vulnerable and open as she writhed against her. After four more spanks, her sniffling had turned into full-blown sobs, ripping out of her chest and tearing up her throat.

“Had it been your plan all evening, Therese?” Carol pushed back some of her blonde curls, her own face pink from exertion. “To act like such a — Dirty. Little. Whore.” The end of her statement was punctuated by three unmerciful, vicious, carefully placed smacks.

“N-No, ma’am!” Therese sounded pitiful, her pussy _so_ wet, feeling as though she could pass out at any moment.

“Are you absolutely certain?” Carol dragged her nails over skin that was now a dark, delicious crimson red. Her fingertips left four white trails that faded as quickly as they came. “It wasn’t your intention to dirty my thighs with your lipstick?”

After five more smacks, Therese let out a scream. “Forgive me!”

It was a piercing, anguished wail that cut through the small confines of the car, bouncing off the windows that were now fogged up from the heat of their actions. Therese was having trouble breathing, releasing a string of broken, whispered apologies, shaking like a leaf. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Carol had spanked a handful of women before and had found mild enjoyment in doing so — but _none_ of them had reacted like Therese. There had been amused chuckles, feminine squeaks, (all of which made Carol fight back the urge to roll her eyes) but she had never gotten the pleasure of generating such an extreme, emotional release.

Therese had fallen into her submissive headspace _effortlessly,_ and it was spectacular to behold.

Signifying that the punishment had ended, Carol covered Therese’s behind back up with her dress and was quick to scoop up the bawling girl into her lap — ardent indignation wiped away, replaced instead with unadulterated tenderness. “Come here, honey.”

“I’m sorry for being a b-bad girl,” Therese persisted through hiccuping cries, gripping at the front of Carol’s blouse with petite fingers and pressing her wet face into the blonde’s neck. “I’m so sorry…”  
  
Carol wrapped Therese up in her strong arms and murmured into her hair, still marveling at her purity. “You’re forgiven, my darling,” she exhaled shakily. “You were a very, _very_ good girl for taking your punishment.” 

This brought forth a brand new wave of tears and Therese nuzzled as close as she could into Carol’s embrace. It had been _years_ since Therese had cried, let alone with such severity, and she was holding onto Carol now like a lifeline — muscles burning, cheeks and jaw itchy from tears, dehydrated, woozy. 

Realizing that Therese may be on the verge of hyperventilating, Carol lifted one of her hands to cradle Therese’s jaw and leaned back to regard her properly. “Breathe for me, Therese,” she instructed, soft but firm, wiping away her tears. “Breathe. It’s all over now. I’m right here.”

This proved to be difficult, what with her chest heaving sporadically with each hitch of breath, but after a minute of sweet murmurs and kisses pressed to her forehead, Therese was able to settle herself down.

“There we are,” Carol cooed, letting her gaze flit about Therese’s exhausted face. Her wet lashes, the delicate slope of her nose. The way she rubbed at her eyes with small fists was endearing, to say the very least. “There’s my girl.”

With one arm still wrapped securely around Therese’s back, she dragged her thumb over that precious, lower lip — then, startling Carol, Therese lifted her hand to mirror the action, her thumb brushing affectionately over the bottom of Carol’s mouth.

It had become _their_ gesture; an unspoken kiss through lingering fingertips.

“Are you alright?” Carol spoke after a moment, sotto voce, still concerned that she may have pushed her too far.

Therese let her forehead fall gently against Carol’s shoulder, finally able to breathe again. “Yes, ma’am.”

Knowing that the both of them needed a moment to process before moving forward, Carol pulled her closer — but the action brought to attention just how slick the inside of Therese’s thighs were, slippery against each other. Upon further, subtle inspection, Carol realized that Therese was absolutely _dripping._

“I think — I think my little girl needs to be touched, doesn’t she?” Carol managed to say through her blossoming hunger.

Shocked by her words, Therese shuddered hard against her, hips jerking slightly, speechless in her arousal.

“You’re _so_ wet, Therese,” Carol rasped, almost in awe. She took one of Therese’s hands and directed them between pale legs. “Feel.”

“Oh, m-my god, Carol,” Therese choked out, because her hand was now being deliberately guided up and along her own aching pussy.

“Does that feel good?” Carol began to kiss down the side of her neck, breathing in the scent of Therese’s sweet shampoo, slowly circling her clit now. “You need to come so badly, don’t you, kitten?”

Tortured by the agonizing pace, Therese buried her face in Carol’s hair, whining as their joined hands continued to tease her. “Yes, please…”

Unsatisfied with the angle in which they were seated, Carol withdrew her hand to take Therese by the waist, pressing an encouraging kiss to her jaw. “Up.”

Therese complied with a certain level of urgency, assuming that Carol wanted her to straddle her lap — but let out a jagged whimper when she was directed to straddle her _thigh_ instead, her pussy pressed erotically against Carol’s hot skin in the process. Her hips bucked at the contact, making the both of them gasp.

“Is that better, princess?” Carol breathed, hands curling around Therese’s hips as she guided her to grind against her thigh. “Huh?”

Therese was moaning openly now, drowning in pleasure, not caring that her ass burned with each roll over her hips as she gripped at Carol’s shoulders “ _So good._ ”

“That’s right, just like that,” Carol encouraged, voice wavering as she watched Therese set her own pace — deep, desperate. It was sweltering now in the back seat, the both of them sweating lightly. Manicured nails digging into slender hips, Carol coaxed another hard, insatiable thrust.

“You’re go-onna make me come!” It was a sweet little cry, wanton against her ear, and Carol couldn’t stop herself from removing one of her hands so she could touch herself to the vision that was Therese Belivet riding her thigh.  
  
“Jesus, me too,” Carol groaned against the crook of her neck, sinking her teeth into the fair skin there before laving her tongue over the bite. She was already close, still sensitive from having come against Therese’s tongue only thirty minutes prior.

“With me,” Therese pleaded breathlessly, hips stuttering. Carol’s thigh was soaked now. She leaned back to press her forehead against Carol’s, their noses brushing. “With me, please.”

Needing to be closer to her, Carol smoothed her free hand up under Therese’s dress to splay her fingers over her spine, her other hand rubbing furiously at her own clit.

They locked eyes, and after that, they didn’t need to speak. Their frenzied movements fell in sync with one another, familiar now after the weeks they’d spent together, and after a few more moments of thrusting and gasping and scratching and aching — they fell apart, together, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it.

“My angel,” Carol whispered some time afterward, brushing Therese’s hair out of her face, their lips a breath apart. “Flung out of space.”

Later that night in the solitude of her suite, Carol tossed and turned, sheets tangled in her legs due to fitful sleep. The intensity of the evening had left her restless; she hadn’t prepared herself mentally for such a drastic turn of events. It had just _happened,_ organically, the two of them clicking into place and working off of each other in ways they couldn’t yet comprehend.

Carol didn’t know whether to feel uneasy about the bond that had been created, or if she should tend to it like she would a garden, let them flourish, let them blossom.

Waking up for the fourth time that night, Carol groaned and rubbed at her eyes. The clock beside her read 3:18 AM. This was getting ridiculous; if she didn’t get any sleep, her Saturday with Rindy would be ruined. The last thing she wanted was to fall asleep during her ballet recital.

So Carol sat up in bed with the intent of opening the fridge — there was some sort of miniature bottle of Absolut that would ultimately free her from insomnia — but her hand fell to her cell phone instead.

Maybe just one message would help alleviate the psychological strain.

_Carol: Did you apply the lotion as I told you to?_

Expecting Therese to be fast asleep, Carol locked the screen and moved to set her phone back down on her nightstand — but it buzzed instantly in her hand.

_Therese: Yes, ma’am._

Carol sat up and pulled the chain on her bedside lamp to illuminate the immediate area. It was becoming clear to her that it had been _concern_ swelling in her chest, keeping her awake. She absently ran her hand through messy blonde waves.

_Carol: Does it hurt you terribly?_

_Therese: Nothing like that. Just sore._

Carol hemmed and hawed about what to say next, or if she should even continue this conversation at all, but the screen lit up again.

_Therese: But I don’t mind it._

_Carol: Why are you still awake, kitten?_

_Therese: I’m not sure. My mind won’t shut off._

Frowning, Carol slid on her glasses. Her guard was down in the midst of her fatigue and her reply came quickly.

_Carol: What is it that you’re thinking about?_

_Therese: You._

Carol felt her breath catch. She waited a moment to collect herself, gaze falling to the couch across the suite, where they had sat together for the first time.

_Carol: What about me?_

_Therese: I feel like I should… thank you._

_Carol: What for?_

_Therese: For not laughing at me when I cried._

On pure impulse, Carol swiped her thumb over Therese’s name and tapped _call._

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Carol started to feel foolish, then —

“Carol?”

A sigh, “Therese.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to call…” Therese sounded reticent, bashful.

Carol interrupted her gently. “I wanted to.” A self-conscious pause. “Is that alright?”

“Of course,” Therese breathed. They were both whispering now.

“Therese…” Carol sank down further into her pillows. “Don’t ever be ashamed of how you feel. Especially with me.”

“I’m just embarrassed, I guess. Was that normal?” She sounded so troubled. “Am _I_ normal?”

Therese’s insecurity hit her straight in the chest. “Darling, your reaction to being punished was _very_ common,” she assured. “But you…” Carol closed her eyes, shook her head. “I don’t know how to begin.”

“I can change,” Therese offered, wounded.

“Don’t you dare,” Carol’s eyes flew open upon recognizing her mistake, her whisper lifted now into a murmur. “What you gave to me tonight, your _submission_ ,” she let the word sink in, as it had been the first time she had spoken it out loud, “I took willingly. It was beautiful — _you_ were beautiful, I — “ She paused, heat rising to her cheeks.

“Carol…”

“Yes?”

“Can I see you on Sunday?”

An amorous smile spread over her lips and Carol felt the tension in her body finally begin to dissipate. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	9. personal update

I know, I’m sorry. This isn’t a new chapter.

I figured I should pop back into this community to apologize and explain why I haven’t updated since August. I don’t want to ramble on too much, so I’ll try to keep it brief. My mother passed away in April after a twenty-year fight against breast cancer and five months later I found my father dead as he had passed unexpectedly in his sleep. Both experiences were fairly traumatic for me and it’s been pretty hard to shake off. I feel like I've aged ten years in six months.

But here’s some good news: **I’m not abandoning this story**. I’m not sure if there are any of you left that still have interest in this fic, but writing used to be therapeutic for me and I’m starting to think that it’s about time that I get back into it. I have a lot planned for Carol and Therese.

Also, a humongous delayed thank you to **Casper** who early last August went out of her way to take photos for me of St. Regis and the King Cole Bar! It warmed my heart to receive your letter and postcard in the mail, I still have them hanging on my wall. A million hugs and more to you.

I hope all of you are keeping warm this winter.

Laura x

_To K, if you’re out there: I will forever be filled with profound regret. I wish you every happiness. You carry my heart._


End file.
